“Damnation Rowan, this place stinks!” Azmund wrinkled his nose and shut the small curtain of their carriage. “I’ll never get that smell out of my head.”
Rowan nodded knowingly. “It has somewhat gotten worse here recently, but that’s why you and the Red Suns are here now. You’ll solve all the problems plaguing Norport and bring peace and prosperity to the land.”
Azmund huffed with indignation. “You want miracles, then you best be letting the gods back out of their boxes. How would you go about trying to fix all this mess, Talos?”
The masked monk opened his eyes, clearly annoyed at the interruption to his meditation. “Finish burning it,” he said simply before retreating back into his own mind.
The lord of Norport smiled at the answer. “Well we already got a good start to that from the looks of that smoke coming from behind the walls.”
The carriage came to a smooth stop and shouting could be heard from the column up ahead. A moment later a royal guard rode up beside them “My lord, they’ve locked down the city and refuse to open the gates unless you give the order personally. The man on the wall had some outlandish claim that you’d been assassinated and an imposter has taken your place.”
“I’m on my way, guardsman.” He dismissed the man and turned back to Azmund. “Let’s go see what this is all about. I might need you to convince them that I’m actually not dead.”
The elder monk groaned. “What if they shoot me instead?”
“I’ll make sure you have a hero’s funeral,” Rowan chuckled. “I’ll even find a dozen of the most beautiful women to dance over your grave.”
“Fat lot of good that will do me if I’m dead,” Azmund grumbled. “Let’s go get this over with. I’m tired and my ass hurts from riding in this box all day.”
They exited the carriage and made their way up to the gatehouse. The guards made a clear path for him as he advanced, keeping a wary eye for anyone that might be hiding in the rubble nearby. Still, Rowan was impressed at the recent growth here in the slums, despite its current state. He’d really managed to push this city to the brink of disaster, and no place showed it as well as this one.
The duo arrived at the gates, sealed tightly shut against any would be intruders. Above them, nervous looking men dressed for battle stood on the wall. They looked down at their lord with concerned expressions upon their faces, not knowing what would come next. He couldn’t really fault them for their worries, as they were simply following the orders of their immediate commanders.
He stood there for a moment, appraising the situation before shouting out, “I am Lord Rowan Aganossis. Rightful ruler of Norport and all of Andesty. I demand you open this gate at once.”
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A man dressed in an officer's uniform, holding a bow with the arrow notched at the ready, leaned out over the wall. “You’ll excuse our reluctance to do so. We’ve been told our lord was murdered by assassins while returning from the south.”
“As you can see,” Rowan said, holding his arms wide, “I am very much alive. You may ask the head of the Wellspring Monastery, Brother Azmund here, if you do not believe me.”
The man raised his bow, aiming for Rowan, but stopped suddenly before pulling back the string. A moment later, another officer pushed him over the edge of the wall while holding a knife in his other hand. He turned back and shouted down to the gatekeeper, “Open the door for Lord Rowan! Be quick about it you ignorant louts or I will serve your worthless corpses up to him myself”
The massive doors started to creak as the men inside the gatehouse began to open them. It was the only sound that could be heard among the stunned silence of the onlookers.
Rowan stepped over to the head of his royal guardsmen. “Gideon, I want you to take every man available and break that riot in there as fast as possible. You’ll have the full support of the military with you. Get it done.”
The man saluted and wasted no time with issuing orders to the column. Soon soldiers began milling through the archway and into the city while Rowan watched them, a sly smile on his face. It didn’t take long for the officer upon the wall to make his way down to them.
“Who’re you?” Azmund asked, holding his wooden staff rather tightly.
Rowan nodded to the officer. “This is Jorin Corwell. He’s been working with me for some time now and I am rather pleased with the results.”
“Thank you my lord,” Jorin said with a bow. “By now, my father has murdered the other members of the judicial council and is trying to cement himself as ruler. He’ll be at the palace right now with a group of men waiting to ambush you if the initial plan had failed.”
Rowan smiled and nodded to him “Well, let’s not keep him waiting then. I look forward to seeing the expression on his face when finds out he’s about to lose everything to the son he barely acknowledged.” He turned to Azmund, “take your monks and start tending to the people. We’ll take Talos with us to the palace. I have a feeling his talents are going to be of use when we spring this next trap.”
Azmund harrumphed loudly. “So I’m to toil amongst the peasants while you laze around the palace drinking fancy wines. No wonder this place is such a damned mess with nobility like you in charge of it.” The older man walked away, continuing to grumble as he did so.
Jorin watched him for a few seconds, stunned at the audacity. “My lord, would you like for me to teach him a lesson in respect he’d never forget?”
Rowan laughed. “No, no. I rather enjoy his sour company actually. Come. Let’s plan out our next step, councilman.”
He could tell from the man’s expression that Jorin was about to burst with pride at hearing that title. Some people’s loyalty could be bought with such simple things these days. All it took for this one was a transfer of power from his father’s estate. Should he turn untrustworthy, there’d always be another to take his place.
Rowan held his hand out, catching a floating bit of ash within it. He rubbed it between his fingers for a moment before wiping it away on his pants. The old Norport was dead, as the gods they worshiped would soon be. The only deity they would know from this point further would be him. All of Andesty, and soon the world would revere his name.