Chapter 094:
Marcus stood in his previous position at the side of the King amongst the other Knights. The Queen sat in a large and comfortable chair to the King’s side Belinda’s chair had been removed. Valérie looked thoroughly refreshed, though retained a noticeable flush, and had applied a thin layer of makeup to her face. She wore something more befitting of a queen, a long and tight purple dress that reached to nearly her toes, with a pair of purple comfortable slippers poking out from underneath, slowly flexing as she smiled at the rest of the court. Though she looked more like a Queen than before her choice of attire left a gaping window into her cleavage. Marcus wondered how effective that tactic was. Probably very, judging by the eyes around him.
Where Belinda once sat Lambert’s children stood in attendance. the nearly identical twins Leo and Giles, the third son Harold, who looked almost like the identical triplet if it weren’t for his slightly withdrawn and tired aura, and Lila, the first princess. She held the same tired look as Harold but didn’t slouch to try and reduce her presence. Rather, she appeared completely uninterested in what was happening around her. For a brief moment, he caught her eye and found it not so empty.
Lambert cleared his throat. “Now that everyone in my family has gathered we can continue. We can discuss something that threatens the entire Kingdom.” He glanced towards Terill and Abeau. “Beyond three potential heretics.”
Terill looked away while Abeau took a deep breath and kept himself calm.
“But while the eastern Border Forts, under the protection of the orders of the Blue Firestorm, the White Lightning and the Grey Dawn, continue to deal with the predations of the Clansmen and their new Orc allies, the threat from the west grows ever stronger.”
A few murmurs of discontent grew from the Knights and even the nobles.
“The Centaurs have proven unmanageable ever since winter ended and continue to harry the western provinces. Fabrice? Could you please continue?”
The Red Salamander Knight stood forward. “Of course my King. We are ready to deal with this threat. My father dealt with the last major assault by these cloven miscreants. And we will not fail. Our Orders will hold firm and throw them back into the wastes.”
The King seemed very impressed by his words. “That is very good to hear, but I’ve been told that the Centaurs far more numerous than before. One of the largest ever seen.”
Fabrice nodded, his armour clinked with every movement. “They are, my King. However, they have yet to leave the wastes and we cannot be certain when they will try. It might not be for several more winters though, but by that time they would be even stronger than they are now.”
“Some sort of pre-emptive strike?”
“That would be ideal. But the wastes are vast and open. And the Centaurs can move faster than our Knights. We would need a truly massive force to surround and force them into a decisive battle. Men that my Order simply does not have to spare or can afford to lose. Especially with Bebbezzar falling apart.”
The King nodded. Marcus and Castor had been locked in the Inn for quite some time and they had no news of the outside world in some time. He knew, given his relative closeness to the Bebbezarians that there were serious problems to the north. Peasant revolts in the east, assassinations in the capital and merchants to the south carving out miniature empires, empires that were hungry for land and soldiers. Had it become even worse?
Marcus glanced at Castor who shook his head.
“True.” The King nodded. “But I would like to do something to halt those creatures and stop them tearing through my Kingdom. I don’t want to see those…things…attacking one of our cities. Regardless of the decision, we make it’ll be costly in terms of money and manpower.”
“My King.” Abeau stepped forward, pushing his way through the Knights and standing where Marcus and Castor knelt when they first arrived. The other Knights only moved as they felt sorry for his attempts to move them aside. “We too have been considering this threat. This concerns all of the Kingdom, from commoner to king, and we all know of these creatures utter disdain for our way of life.”
“And Churches,” Lambert added dryly.
“Yes, my King.” Abeau continued. “They destroy everything in their wake, regardless of its origins.”
Lambert grumbled, disappointed that Abeau missed his point. Strangely, Terill was silent with a hint of a frown on his face.
“We have found a countermeasure to this threat. One that, with your permission, I would like to demonstrate.”
“Do you have it here? It would be interesting to see the Church of the Holy Father as something that actually helps protect the people…”
Valérie patted Lambert's hand and smiled at him.
“Yes. We have it here and can show it to you in but a moment.” Terill frowned again at Abeau.
Lambert nodded in approval. Abeau nearly skipped to the door. The Royal Guards opened the door and allowed him through. He disappeared from view for a few moments before returning with another priest, this one of middle age, who stood near the door before he returned back to his previous position smiling even wider than before. Terill became increasingly concerned.
“My King, your highness, princes, Knights and nobles. It gives me great honour to show you the result of our labour.”
Marcus felt a deeply unsettling feeling rise in his stomach. He checked his weapons and shield, just in case. The wooden doors opened and a dozen people entered, dressed in white cloaks. No part of their skin was visible and their hoods were pulled down low to hide their faces. Their hands were covered by their enormous sleeves and were tucked into one another. The nobles had no idea what to think and simply stood in silence as they passed. They stopped behind Abeau and kept their heads down.
“And what are twelve monks supposed to do?” The king asked. A few of the Knights chuckled. “I’m sure the strength of their faith surpasses us all, but how are they supposed to defeat a creature as strong as a centaur. Especially when they’re thousands of them.”
The King glanced at Terill but found nothing on the man’s elderly face. When he looked away Marcus saw genuine concern and…shame?
“Judging just by their appearance you would think so.” Abeau smiled, one that deeply disturbed Marcus. “However, a demonstration would be the best way to convey their strength. With your permission.”
The King nodded again and dismissively waved Abeau on. Abeau signalled to the priest helper standing by the door. Another dozen people emerged but these didn’t wear long white cloaks. Eight wore comparatively little, ragged pants with iron links holding their wrists together, their faces dirty and angry. Prisoners. The other four were mercenaries that ensured the prisoners didn’t try to escape, even though the prisoners had links around their ankles. They were moved just behind Abeau and stopped. Still, the King looked on with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Already one carpet had to be replaced this day.
“Just one of our new soldier will be able to take down eight armed men. And this soldier has only had a few days training at most.” Abeau smiled. “We can make soldiers at such a rate that no one will be able to stand before us.”
Our soldiers? Not the Kings’?
Lambert clearly had the same question spinning in his mind. Valérie caressed his hand and calmed him down.
“Surely you mean the King’s soldiers?” Valérie asked sweetly.
Abeau feverishly bowed his head. “Forgive my words, my King. My lady. I was speaking of the Kingdom at large.”
The King waved his hand to continue, though he was far more pensive than before. Abeau snapped his finger at the closest and shortest robbed man. He pulled his hands from his sleeves, they were covered in very thick gloves, and pulled back his hood and let the robe fall from his body. Everyone gasped. For the first time in his life, Marcus wished that the Church only took children to abuse them.
The child, for he was not old enough to be a man yet, wore nothing but short pants and the thick gloves. Every part of his exposed modestly built body had stitches, where long and deep cuts had been made into his body then roughly sewn together. Some of the wounds, around his hearts and face, glowed with a faint purple hue. The face had suffered the worst. The lips were completely removed with only rough pieces of still healing flesh remained. Teeth remained but they had been…modified with the same purple hue of his wounds. His hair was cut very short with more stitch wounds running over his skull.
Abeau beamed with pride as he showed off his…creation. The King was absolutely mortified and recoiled from the sight. The Queen, bizarrely, looked happy as she marvelled at the child like he was a newly born puppy. Harold and Giles looked worried but not at the child. Lila kept her face blank while Leo was even more horrified than the King. Every Knight looked on in disgust, even Bernard, while the Nobles were too stunned to respond.
“Caiden?”
Marcus snapped his head to Castor. The child turned his head towards Castor and frowned ever so slightly.
“I know that boy.” Castor turned to Marcus. “He was Governor Eilis’s son. But…He was going to be sent to a Knight Order.”
“This child…” Abeau planted both hands on the boy’s shoulders. His vision turned away from Castor and back to Abeau, all emotion disappearing. “Volunteered himself for this undertaking. A very noble sacrifice so that all the enemies of the Holy Father and the Qaiviel Kingdom could be destroyed.”
“Explain yourself right now!” Lambert slammed his fist onto the throne. “Explain to me why you have butchered this child!”
Valérie patted his hand. “Before you go any further, perhaps we should see what they can do.”
“What?”
Valérie nodded at Abeau before Lambert could erupt further. Abeau nodded to the mercenaries who quickly removed the prisoner’s shackles. The prisoners looked equally concerned as the mercenaries presented them with weapons. Before the King could yell again Valérie held his hand tight. He was still on the verge of exploding. A quick glance and Bernard held his hand over the handle of his broadsword.
The prisoners held their weapons with some experience, but that was overridden by their confusion. They all looked to Abeau.
“If you are able to kill this child warrior the Church is willing to pardon your crimes.”
“Doesn’t sound like we have much of a choice.” One prisoner, wielding a short sword, murmured.
Abeau smiled. “No. You really don’t.” He snapped his fingers again and Caiden moved in front of the prisoners while everyone else, including the other cloaked figures, moved away. “Begin!”
Caiden darted towards the closest prisoner and swung his fist at the man’s stomach. He dodged the swift but uncoordinated strike of the sword and collided with the prisoner’s stomach. Flesh tore and blood flew as his fist travelled through his stomach and punched out his spine. The prisoner gasped, dropping his sword, and desperately scrapped at Caiden’s scarred body but couldn’t find any purchase. Caiden flung the prisoner at the others, a sickening sound of flesh tearing emanated as his fist tore out more flesh. The sound of broken bones filled the air as they collided with the other prisoners, except the one that spoke who rolled out of harm’s way at the last second. Caiden hesitated before picking up a sword and carved through the scrambling prisoners. One raised his sword to protect himself but it shattered under the strike, so too did Caiden’s. He cared not and hacked through one prisoner after another. Every kill appeared to brighten the purple hue that leaked from his stitched wounds. After the next breath, it was gone. The Nobles ran to the edges of the throne room, where Marcus saw strange movement again. A terrifying scream from a dying prisoner drew his attention again.
“Draw your sword Castor,” Marcus whispered harshly. Castor followed his order and hid his drawn sword behind his shield, even as he watched the display unfold before him.
The last downed prisoner desperately raised his weapon to strike Caiden but did not connect. Caiden ripped the sword from his hand, grabbing the blade itself, before thrusting the shattered remains into his head. Marcus knew the strength required for such a strike, he had performed it himself many times, but someone that slim couldn’t do that except to perhaps a Goblin. The prisoner that dodged his throw ran at Caiden. Caiden didn’t have his sword ready and tried to back away but could not beat the prisoner’s momentum. He swung down and cleaved a portion of flesh off his leg. Caiden didn’t let out a sound as the hunk of flesh fell to the ground. The prisoner smiled but it quickly vanished as he looked down. No blood leaked from either the wound or the piece of flesh on the ground. Instead tiny tendrils, hundreds of black and purple worms, reached out from both wounds, desperately reaching out for each other. The prisoner stood stunned as Caiden picked up his flesh and held it against his leg. A sickening squelching emanated throughout the silent room while Caiden grunted in pain.
The prisoner, upon realising he should have moved, lunged into another attack. Caiden took his blow, parried the strike to the ground and swung at his unprotected head. The sword cleaved through his skull, sending blood and brain over one side of the gathered nobles. They recoiled in horror as the final prisoner’s body fell lifelessly to the ground. Caiden turned back to Abeau for further orders, his face blank and devoid of emotion. The wound on his leg had healed, leaving only a tiny white scar amongst the much deeper stitch scars.
Abeau beamed with pride as he turned to the King. Terill, however, desperately tried to hide his hyperventilating panic. Abeau didn’t look at him and clapped his hands twice. Caiden and the cloaked soldiers assembled before the king, while the blood of the prisoners seeped into the carpet and stone once again.
“As you can see, my King, just one of these soldiers is able to take down eight armed men, and while not properly armed or armoured. With the proper equipment, an army of these would be able to destroy any foe that dares threaten us.”
“How…How is anything you just showed me good? Do you have no respect for humanity?” The King had managed to calm himself down. “I know of your scripture, you little snot. I’ve had it preached enough to me that I probably know it better than you. But…How in anyone’s name is a creature like this supposed to be the will of a kind and benevolent god that watches over the good of humanity?”
Abeau smiled. “These are the warriors of the Holy Father. They have given themselves up to a higher cause.”
“A higher cause?! Are you seriously trying to peddle that shit to me?!”
Something at the door caught Marcus’s attention. The priest waved forward a series of attendants, plainly dressed monks, to retrieve the corpses. But the Royal Guards standing at the door made him deeply concerned. Something about them seemed different to the others standing in the throne room.
Marcus turned to the knights beside him as the King and Abeau continued to speak in every louder volume, led by Abeau. “Draw your swords. Something’s about to go wrong.”
“You don’t say,” Fabrice grumbled and drew his sword, along with many of the Knights.
“This…” Lambert stood up from his throne, his age evaporated in the face of his anger. “This is not going to happen in my Kingdom. Ever! You, and the rest of your Church, you have stepped too far this. And for that, I am actually glad. For too long I’ve let you do whatever you please and cover it by claiming it is the will of your god. No longer will you corrupt and poison this land. You and your creatures and hereby sentenced to death.”
“Lambert. Please, don’t be rash.” Valérie stood up and tried to hold his hands but he brushed her aside.
“Rash? Damn it, woman. Can’t you see what they have done to a child?”
“Please, don’t do this.” She was almost pleading in her voice. “What they do is for the good of all humanity. You must see this!”
“You will not change my mind on this.”
Tears flowed down Valérie’s eyes as she slapped him. Then red ran down Lambert’s neck.
Chaos erupted the next moment. Lambert staggered backwards and fell down onto his throne as Leo pushed past his oddly stationary brothers and sisters and ran to his side. Bernard drew his great-sword and advanced on the Queen. Her eyes were full of anger as she attempted to stare down the giant but he would not cow. As he raised his sword high to cleave her in two something struck him from behind. Caiden collided with his back and pushed him forward. The sword missed the Queen and smashed into her chair. He dropped the sword and attempted to kick Caiden but he had already backed away and the kick hit only air.
“Attack!” Abeau screamed.
The remaining robbed men cast aside their white clothes and lunged towards Bernard. Not all were children like Caiden. Most were adult men but some were clearly once women, though the obvious way to determine their sex had been removed and sewn together with more thick black stitches.
“For the King!” Fabrice yelled.
The other Knights cheered and lunged into the fray, Marcus held Castor back despite his desire to attack. There were bigger things at stake. Though these new soldiers were indeed strong they wore no armour and had no defence against a blade. Once the Knights reached Bernard they set upon the creations with a terrible fury. Red blood, pieces of dark flesh and pieces of metal flew into the air as the fight descended in a blur of shouts and movements.
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The Royal Guards, standing at the sides of the chamber, ran towards the throne but stopped when the side doors opened and they turned to fight whatever attacked them from behind. Screams emanated from the nobles as they began to run about wildly, their brightly coloured clothes mixing into the swirling maelstrom of violence. Plain clothed mercenaries dove around the Royal Guards and joined the struggling stitch soldiers.
Marcus glanced at the throne. Leo desperately tried to stem the flow of blood while Lambert quickly succumbed, the Queen hid behind the chair, Lila had disappeared and Giles and Harold were advancing upon the throne with daggers in hand. Marcus didn’t have time to think. He ran at the two princes with his shield raised. Leo looked back, the colour drained from his face as he saw his two brothers ready to attack him. He had nothing to defend himself. Marcus collided with the princes and sent them careening towards the far wall. Valérie let out a shriek but Marcus had no time for her.
“I-” Leo managed to squeak out as the King’s head slumped forward.
“Time to go,” Marcus yelled as he ripped the first prince from his father’s corpse.
He managed a step before the crack of breaking wood came from the front. The main doors burst open, the two Royal Guards stationed there had pulled them open, and a horde of plain mercenaries burst through and charged towards the Knights. Marcus spied crossbows amongst the mercenaries. Some Royal Guards split off and moved to intercept the new mercenaries. The mercenaries stopped and unleashed a barrage of bolts. The bolts pierced through the armour of the guards and several dropped but many survived despite being deeply wounded. They charged at the mercenaries, the mercenaries clearly expected for them to go down and hadn’t prepared for the counter-attack, and the Royal Guard’s began to tear into them.
Marcus had no idea what was going on anymore. Who was in the right or wrong, who was friend or foe, he had no idea. More worryingly the flow of enemy mercenaries wasn’t stopping. For days those carts had been coming into the city laden with soldiers…
“How can we get out of here?” Marcus asked Leo.
Leo was gibbering nothings, his eyes swivelling around his skull. Marcus sighed and slapped him hard with his metal gauntlet. Leo’s face burst open with surprise and scowled at Marcus. How many times had the Prince actually been struck before?
“How do we get out of here?!”
Marcus heard another shout. The Royal Guards at the door were beginning to falter and the mercenaries pushed forward.
“The…The bolt holes.” Leo pointed to a wooden wall to the far side of the throne room. “The wood is thin. You could be able to knock it down.”
The Knights were beginning to falter as the mercenaries unleashed the crossbows mere inches from their bodies. Their armour was not thick enough to shrug them off. The rainbow array of Knights began to falter and the line quickly started to fall thin.
Marcus picked Leo up and waved for Castor to follow him. Leo pointed at a seemingly inconspicuous piece of wood. Marcus handed Leo to Castor and kicked at the door with all his might. The wood splintered and broke. Beyond lay a narrow room. Castor pushed Leo roughly through the opening and followed. Marcus looked behind him. Some Knights were still fighting on, many lay dead, and some were missing. Bernard had disappeared, very difficult for a man of that size. A few Knights, with the Red Salamander Fabrice at the lead, were pushing towards one of the side doors. Marcus saw Noah at the rear of the group of Knights. Perhaps they could escape. But for now, they had to make sure they, and Leo, survived.
The bolthole room was very small, Marcus had to bend over just to fit, but they moved as fast as they could. Castor kept pushing Leo forward through a winding series of tunnels which the Prince appeared to know the correct way. The screams and sounds of conflict quickly died away until it was nothing more than faint and echoing whimpers.
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Time passed so strangely rushing through the cramped tunnels. The thrill and flight from battle produced a dizzying sensation, muddling his perception of time. When they finally stopped in a large innocuous room all three slumped against the wall to desperately try and catch their breath.
“My Lord,” Castor spoke through short, sharp breaths. “What just happened?”
Castor had fallen back into his younger days when he had to call Marcus a lord.
“My…My mother…” Leo shook his head. “And my brothers…I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything that’s going on.”
“Neither do I.” Marcus used his sword as a crutch. “But we can’t stay in the castle any longer. You all saw how many were pouring in near the end.”
“And those…things.” Castor shook his head. “Why would the Church have those things?”
“We aren’t going to figure those out by wheezing our guts out here.”
“And why did they have to do it to that boy? He survived his father’s death and now he’s…”
Marcus didn’t want to think about it too much either. He remembered Caiden as he was dragged away from his father, never to now that he had been hanged over the city gate, not to be removed until his corpse fell to pieces. But he doubted Caiden would have willingly agreed to this. He must have been captured and made into…one of those things.
“Time to go.” Marcus patted Castor’s shoulder. He begrudgingly rose.
Leo did not. His hands were fastened to his knees and refused to budge. Marcus held the boy’s shoulder tight. Slowly he looked up at him, his eyes full of sorrow.
“Prince Leo. If you want to find out what happened in there we need to keep moving and get out of here alive. Now…How can we get out of the castle without being seen?”
“What will we do then?” Leo asked, his voice quivering like a child.
Marcus smiled. “One thing at a time. Now, what is the best way to get out of the castle without being spotted?”
Leo took several deep breathes. “The best way would be through the servant’s quarters. They…They need to go to the river to get water to wash clothes, and that’s outside the castle itself. The well inside the castle isn’t big enough for that.”
“There’ll be servants…How...” Marcus rubbed his brow. “I want you to be completely honest with me, how well-liked are you amongst the servants?”
Leo scratched his cheeks with blood-stained hands. “I…I think I’m well liked. I’ve slept with a few of the maids.”
Marcus sighed. “And did you break any of their hearts when you moved onto the next?”
Leo shook his head. “No. I still see them often. But I don’t see-”
“Okay. That’ll have to do.”
“What about your armour? They’ll spot that right away.”
“Perhaps. But I don’t want to be caught without it. I don’t think they’ll have started a full search just yet. But we’d better get a move on just in case.”
Leo nodded and led them through another series of small corridors until they reached a normal and open corridor. Marcus leapt back when four guards passed them by. They saw them and smiled before continuing with their patrol.
“That won’t take long to fix,” Marcus whispered when they were gone. “There’s not enough guards inside the castle itself to fight off those hundreds of mercenaries. Now, where do we go?”
Leo pointed in the opposite direction. They ran along the corridor, passing maids, servants and another four guards. The guards behaved like the first, slightly bemused but none were willing going to question the Prince. Not yet, at any rate. Leo slowed when he approached a door surround by several young women. They wore maid attire, a rough but strong material that didn’t stain easily. Most were young women but a few were older, judging by their grouping they were the leaders.
“Prince Leo.” An elder maid bowed her head as they approached. “I’m afraid there isn’t a new maid for you this time.”
Nearly all the maids blushed. Marcus was more than a little impressed at Leo’s ability, even if royalty played a major part in it.
Leo glanced back at Marcus then to the maid. “I’m sorry Anne but we need to get out of the castle. The quietest way you can.”
“What’s wrong?” A deep frown formed on her face, one copied by the other maids.
“I can’t explain. But, you need to promise you to tell everyone that we kept running along the corridor. Promise me!”
Anne nodded and glared at the girls. “If any of you say anything else I’ll skin you myself.”
The girls paled and nodded furiously. Anne opened the small wooden door, looked along the corridors, and ushered them in. The interior was filled with many tubs for cleaning clothes and the smell of a soap filled the air. Anne ushered them through at a blistering pace. Many maids worked but were hushed silent by one harsh snap from Anne. She reached a door on the far side and led them outside. Once outside Marcus smelt the distinctive smell of smoke. He looked up to the castle and saw trails leaking from the upper levels, where the throne room lay. A few faint screams and sounds of battle rang through the air.
“What is happening?” Anne asked quietly.
“Nothing good,” Marcus said.
Anne led them along a pathway, waving the passing maids and servants off the path, before arriving at a small gate that led them through the outer castle wall.
“The river that we collect water from is just on the other side and to the right,” Anne said. “Will that help?”
Marcus shook his head. “Not really, but we need to get some horses so we can leave the capital.”
“What is happening?” Anne begged to know.
“My mother killed the King.” Leo quietly answered. “And my brothers tried to kill me.”
Anne was stunned. She shook her head to recover herself. “I…Okay. There’s a Knight’s barracks a block away from this gate, straight ahead. You’ll be able to get a horse there.”
“Thank you, Anne.” Leo kissed her cheek, Anne flushed deeply.
“You and your girls might need to leave as well,” Marcus said as he moved towards the gate. “Once they find out you helped us…”
“We’ll do what we need to do. You three get out of here before they find you.”
Marcus opened the door and found four surprised soldiers on the other side. They looked him up and down as they lowered their weapons. Leo peered around the door and the guard’s relaxed.
“Sorry, your highness. We weren’t expecting you to come through here.”
Marcus leant down to Leo’s ear. “We might be able to stop this right now if we can get enough men and storm the throne room. There’s not enough inside but there might be enough within the city.”
Leo gulped and nodded. “You four are to come with me right now. No questions.”
The guards glanced at one another but saluted all the same.
“Where is the nearest barracks?” Marcus asked.
A guard looked to Leo who, upon receiving a nod, pointed down the street. “One block down. The other side of the Knight’s stable. Should be about a hundred people there right now.”
“We need to get there right now,” Marcus yelled, pushing Leo forward.
They ran down the street and the four guards looked at the top of the castle. Where they had been standing there wasn’t a way to see and the sounds of city life hid the fighting and screaming. Marcus grabbed one by the shoulder and beckoned them forward. The people they passed looked up at the castle in shock and surprise. Many tried to ask Leo what was happening but they push through the crowds.
The Barracks, sounds of raucous laughter emanating from within, came into view but Marcus raised his hand and brought them to a halt. Marcus pointed to a thin trail of blood trailing into the stable adjacent to the barracks. The stable should have had guards but they were mysteriously absent. And the doors were slightly ajar. Marcus drew his sword, so too did Castor, and they advanced on the stable.
“You bloody giant!” Marcus heard when he neared the door.
He stepped back and slowly opened the door. Three plain-clothed mercenaries lay dead on the floor while one backed towards them, holding a bloody and limp hand.
“Fuck.” The mercenary whimpered before a great-sword cut through him vertically.
As his body split in two Bernard loomed over the corpse. His black armour was stained with blood and several chinks had been cut loose. Deep cuts covered his exposed skin and his breathing appeared quite ragged.
“Good to see you, Marcus.” Bernard lifted his great sword. “I wondered if you got out of there.”
“We found a way.” Marcus didn’t lower his sword. “And how did you get out? You had hundreds of mercenaries in front of you.”
“I carved my way through to one of the open side doors and cut my way through the mercenaries. They weren’t ready for someone like me coming down those passageways.”
A young boy, wearing golden clothing, peered around a large wooden post.
“You saved Noah at least.”
Bernard scoffed when he looked back to the boy. “I suppose. He made the smart decision to follow me. Saved his life.”
“Anyone else make it?”
“I don’t know. There were a lot of them.” Bernard sighed and ushered them inside. He rotated his shoulder and smiled. “Though not as many as before.”
When he saw Leo his face softened. “Thank the gods that you survived.” Bernard tried to straighten up but the wounds had taken its toll. “The Black Riders serve the King. Always. And since the death of your father, and the treason of your mother and brother, that makes you the undisputed King. Our Order is at your disposal.”
“I…I don’t know.” Leo rested a hand on a wooden beam. A horse snorted right next to Leo. He shook his head. “This…”
Castor moved forward and held his shoulder. “I know this is beyond anything you ever thought could happen...But this is what’s happening. And you can’t run from it.” Castor glanced back to Marcus, who nodded and motioned for him to continue. “Since you’re the King now, what do we do? Do we try and fight this right now or do we try and flee the capital and get an army to take it back?”
Leo rested his head on the beam. He sighed and ground his forehead on the wood. “I wish father had actually taught us this sort of stuff. Actually taught us how to be a King…Alright.” Leo took another deep breath. “My father wouldn’t run. Not yet at least. We should get as many city guards as possible and try and take back the main castle. That door we came through is still open and the maids will let us in.”
“As you wish, my King,” Bernard said. “We should rally the guards in the barracks first and have them send messengers out before the enemy can do the same.”
Leo nodded but no made no motion to move from the beam. Castor returned to Marcus’s side and smiled weakly. Marcus patted his shoulder.
“This is going to be a tough fight.” Marcus began. “And we may not survive it.”
“They can’t be allowed to get away murdering the King,” Castor replied.
Marcus patted Leo’s shoulder and gently pushed him out into the street. He knew the look in his eyes, he wouldn’t be much use for the next little while. He could follow orders but his ability to act independently was essentially none. Bernard followed behind.
Marcus turned to see Noah following in Bernard’s shadow. “Noah, can you ready four horses for us?”
Noah nodded. “I can, my lord. I have already received that training from-”
“Be quick about it too.”
Noah nodded and rushed to the horses. Marcus turned his attention to the street outside. The small plumes of smoke rising from the King’s castle had grown and the people outside were growing increasingly concerned. Marcus ignored them and followed Bernard as he knocked loudly on the barrack’s door. The raucous laughter toned down and Bernard stepped back. A city watch guard, wearing chain mail and plate armour underneath his white and green clothing, emerged. He frowned as he looked at Bernard, the blood still fresh and dripping off his armour.
“Who is your commander?” Marcus asked.
The guard saw Marcus’s more obvious Knight Order armour and snapped to attention. “Currently I am, sir. We-”
Marcus bumped Leo’s shoulder. “Commander, I am Leo Qaiviel, first prince of the Qaiviel Kingdom. And now, after the assassination of my father, the King. I need you to get ready to fight right now. Everyone you can muster from every barracks.”
The guard looked Leo over before he nodded furiously. “At once.”
He darted inside the barracks. The laughter stopped and tables and chairs started to groan and move. A few moments later the first city guard emerged, shield and sword in his hands. Nearly a hundred and fifty men followed, mostly with swords and shield but twenty with large and heavy crossbows.
“This is a start but we need more,” Marcus said to the commander. “Send a messenger to every barracks and wherever you have men in the city and rally them here. The King needs you all. Now!”
“Yes, Sir!” The commander shouted to a dozen younger guards and sent them off into the city. The civilians had almost all retreated, correctly guessing that something terrible was happening and didn’t want to be a part of it.
Bernard grumbled and started to arrange the city guard into a proper unit. Their discipline, and even their equipment, left much to be desired. But it would have to do.
Noah shouted from the stable and led four horses, with harnesses but no armour, towards them.
“Forgive me, my lords, but they didn’t have any armour. I made sure the harnesses are fitted properly.”
“Excellent work.” Marcus patted him roughly on the head. Noah didn’t seem to know how to respond. “Quickly, Leo, Bernard, Castor, mount up.”
Castor made sure Leo mounted his horse, he managed without incident, and Castor mounted his. His horse protested a little, the horse was a little smaller than their normal horses and not accustomed to the weight. Bernard didn’t move towards his horse, instead leaning on his great sword.
“Bernard.” Marcus approached and held Bernard’s shoulder. “How badly wounded are you?”
“I’m fine. They’re just flesh wounds. I’ll patch it up when we’re done.”
“You should still get on that horse.”
Marcus pulled him away from the city guard. Bernard appointed the commander to get his men in order and tried to mount the horse. Some of the strength had left him so Marcus had to help him up. When he was on he calmed a little. He grunted thanks as he whipped the reins.
Marcus heaved himself up on his horse and gently stroked its neck. He looked over the odd hundred people gathered before them. He had no hope they would succeed with these few men, especially with those creatures like Caiden, but it was a start.
A city guard, one that had been sent away, ran towards them with another three hundred guards behind him.
“How many more do we need?” Castor asked.
“At least triple,” Marcus replied. “I don’t want to fight one of those things. Better to pelt them with a storm of bolts-”
Tiny flecks of pebbles blasted Marcus’s face. He spat out the fragments and tried to remove the pieces in his eye. He looked down and saw a crossbow bolt embedded in the stone street. He followed the bolt’s direction and the blood drained from his face. A large group of mercenaries and city guards marched down the street towards them from the King’s Castle. The city guard did not look friendly. A quick glance to the right revealed another group of mercenaries and city guard fighting another group of city guards, a group that had responded to Leo’s call to arms. They were outmatched and being slaughtered where they stood. No mercy was given.
“Shit,” Marcus grumbled. “Looks like they’re a bit better organised than I thought.”
And those city guard’s think that we’re in the wrong. If we put Leo out there to stop them one of those mercs is just going to put a bolt in him.
Marcus clicked his tongue when spied someone that looked to be one of the assistants to the King, but he recognised him as one of the priests. The moved very quickly. This whole thing was planned, if not well executed.
“Do we flee?” Castor asked. “We can’t fight that many.”
More bolts started to crash into the stone streets and wood of the buildings. Their city guard raised their shields and turned to face them. The bolts smashed into the metal shields but didn’t penetrate. The crossbowmen fired back, striking a few enemies but were answered with a hailstorm of bolts, killing nearly all their crossbowmen.
“No, we cannot.” Marcus whipped the rein of his horse. “Prince Leo. We need to leave the capital and gather our forces. We will die if we stay any longer.”
“We should head east.” Bernard coughed up some blood. “The Black Riders have their main fortress there. We have thousands of actual soldiers, not like these. Not to mention all the soldiers we’ll be able to rally once word starts to spread of what happened here.”
“What do we do with them?” Castor looked to the city guards with them. They were terrified and completely outnumbered and outmatched. “We can’t just leave them to die.”
“We won’t.” Marcus whistled at the city guards. They looked up at him in worry, their hands covered in the blood of their comrades as they hauled them away from the hailstorm of bolts. “Run! There is nothing more you can do for us. Run and find a way to live. Do whatever it takes. We will return.”
The city guards looked horrified they were being abandoned. Nonetheless they quickly broke and dispersed. Many just dropped their weapons and ran towards the castle, away from the two approaching enemy forces. The commander hesitated before Marcus ordered him directly to go. Noah’s eyes darted between them, his hands scrunched in fear and panic. Marcus leant down and grabbed him but the scruff of his neck and lifted him onto his horse, leaving him lying on his horse. Marcus whistled to Castor, who grabbed Leo’s reins and pulled him along, with Bernard taking up the rear, as they all rode away from approaching forces. Bolts whizzed past their heads, striking the stone street and some of the fleeing guards, one struck Marcus’s back armour but didn’t penetrate through to his skin.
The turned around the corner and missed another barrage of bolts. Marcus shouted at the bewildered civilians standing in the street to move. They only managed to get out of the way at the last second, some even struck by Marcus’s armoured foot. He didn’t care about that, only that they had to get out of the city. The sounds of fighting grew as they raced to the eastern gates, groups of city guards were fighting each other with groups of plain mercenaries fighting alongside certain city guard groups. Their messengers had set off some sort of miniature civil war. At least the sacrifice of the city guards could allow them to escape.
Castor brought his horse next to Marcus. Noah was doing his best to hold on but was starting to fall off. Marcus picked him up and put Noah behind him. The young boy held onto his armour for dear life.
“My Lord. If we’re heading east then we could catch up with Duchess Belinda. Have her get that Grand Mage and his companions. With them on our side this whole thing will be over in a few days at most.”
“Good idea. Make sure that Bernard and Leo keep up. We’ll patch him up as soon as we’re free of the city. I don’t want that monster to bleed out.”
Marcus didn’t want to tell him of what Belinda had lost, but the first part of the plan was still good. Marcus turned to tell Leo but tears streamed down his face, reality was setting finally starting to crush down upon him, while Bernard had slowed to make sure he didn’t fall off despite his wounds. Right now they both had enough trouble riding straight. If they were going to survive they would just have to take it one step at a time. Marcus whipped his reins even harder as they fled the capital with every ounce of strength the beasts could muster.