“… Therefore, King Carmine, by his grace and generosity, demands that King Gerheist immediately send tribute worth the value of 20,000 gold coins. That is all.”
The messenger haughtily stated his demand and the court of Gerheist was silent.
The palace was small and the main hall was many times smaller than that of King Carmine’s. The floor was made of polished marble while the pillars were cast of solid steel, painted gold.
The large stained glass panels depicted the image of a man wrestling with a lion.
The young King Gerheist, barely 16, stared at the messenger.
The courtiers were silent, many offer the messenger a scathing stare.
“I say, King Carmine has really learnt to be a lion, hasn’t he?”
A man with a long white beard that reached his waist and slightly messy hair stepped from among the ranks of the courtiers.
“It is my King’s inauguration, yet King Carmine is here to… Blackmail, my King?”
“Calm yourself, Duke Fiesen, my King is only asking for his rightful due, a compensation, if you will, for your unlawful incursions into the Carminian territory.” The messenger replied calmly and Duke Fiesen’s face soured.
“Your territory, you say… It was my lands in which your horses trampled on!”
Another voice from the courtiers and this time, a muscular man, looking like he was in his forties pushed forward, clad in chainmail.
“Ah… And you are…?” The messenger feigned ignorance, turning to look at the man as if he was a filthy pest.
“Earl Malai!” the man shouted angrily and the King slammed his hand on the arm of his chair, the resounding impact attracting everyone’s attention.
“Enough bickering!” the young King Carmine roared, his golden brown robes quivering ever so slightly as the petite brown haired boy whom they called King shouted.
“Today is a good occasion and let us not sour the mood.” King Gerheist said loudly, smiling as he walked from his throne and held the hands of the messenger, to audible gasps in the main hall.
“My King, you can not—You must not!” Earl Malai said loudly, horrified while Duke Fiesen’s face was that of complete rage.
“We shall not only pay the 20,000 gold coins that they wish for, but Earl Malai and Duke Fiesen shall be scheduled for execution, at dawn.” King Gerheist smiled and as guards grabbed the two members of the nobility, Duke Fiesen roared, “Death before dishonour, my King! You must not! You must not!”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The nobles’ yells gradually faded away and the feast began, with the Carminian envoy looking absolutely smug about things.
However, in the dead of the night, as Duke Fiesen and Earl Malai sat in his cell, the former cast a weary look on the latter. As Duke Fiesen stood up to stretch his bones, Earl Malai finished up the last bit of the cheese.
“My knees already hurt. I’m too old for this kind of thing,” Duke Fiesen complained, pouring himself a goblet of wine from the food and drinks that they had requested the guards to bring in.
Earl Malai twitched in annoyance, “Just wait for our King to come. This was his plan after all.”
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“Honourable Carstein, or should I call you Sir Carstein?” Kaisenberg laughed as he rode his grey mare towards the Owl Guards escorting the gold. Truth be told, Lawrence could have hidden everything away in his inventory and brought it here but Lawrence’s motives were two-fold.
Firstly, he did not want to make it a habit for anyone to overly rely on him as he had things he wanted to do on top of building Tears. What if they wanted to transfer arms and weapons next? Was Lawrence to become the Intercontinental Shipping Company? DHL? FedEx?
Next, with the construction of the defensive walls underway, Lawrence wanted to compare it with Everett, which was proclaimed as a fortress.
The place that Kaisenberg and his retinue received Lawrence was known as Bone Back Creek, where it was a narrow cliff overlooking the sea to the left, while a dense forest to the right.
“Please, just call me Lawrence, there is no point for such a thing between us,” Lawrence replied and the knights divided themselves into two lines, one on either side of the convoy.
“No trouble along the way, I hope?” Kaisenberg asked and Lawrence shook his head. The journey has been nothing but quiet so far, which was not a bad thing.
“Honourable Carstein, we have a problem,” Longines said, his horse galloping towards Lawrence and as he reined the horse in, he bowed.
“What is it?” Lawrence asked, having not heard any war cries or sounds of battle.
“The wheels of one of the wagon has broken off. The road is narrow and we can’t go around it without risking some of the cargo falling into the sea.”
“Let me take a look.” Lawrence dismounted and Kaisenberg followed suit. Sensing the commotion, Craig and Jacob followed behind. There, it became painfully obvious what a trainwreck it has become.
One of the wagons carrying chests of gold had its wheel completely break apart from the weight of the gold and a few chests have spilt its contents open.
“Alright, boys, get the gold back into the chests, come on.” Jacob, stepping forward said, as he bent down to pick up some of the gold bars and place them back in the chests.
“I can ride back to Everett and get more wagons-“ Kaisenberg said but Lawrence had knelt down beside the wagon to examine it.
There was no way in hell he could fix it with what he knew and so blatantly in the open.
There was no repair option for the cart so the interface must have already considered it junk since it was constantly showing the scrap option instead.
“The two of you, come over here,” Longines pointed at two of the Owl Shields looked at each other puzzled before walking over.
“Put both your shields on the ground, side by side, no the other way. Face down,” Longines instructed and the two lost looking Owl Shields soldiers did so.
“Load the gold from the chests onto it, the two of you, hold onto either sides of the shield.”
That was when Lawrence looked at Longines approvingly. What a smart man! He had basically used the two shields to create a sled.
“Rather a smart move, I’d say,” Craig nodded approvingly, as the convoy now managed to move again.
Yet, within the woods, hungry eyes eyed the convoy. A man nocks his bow and a signal was given. He raises his bow and aims…