Chapter 36 - Treason

No armies surrounded the capital, and yet smoke rose from within.

Eildred dug in with his heel, driving his horse faster. Narsena was the mare's name. He loved her and was glad she'd been recovered. She ran faster, hooves crushing down frozen blades of dead grass. He filled his lungs with late morning cold air, puffing out a cloud as he kept his sight fixed upon Exaltyron. Ramparts are still manned. Lotus banners still flying before the parapets. A good sign. But the smoke…

The smoke was large enough to indicate burning on a largescale. A stray fire spread from a smithy or bakery perhaps? And yet, a foreboding feeling gnawed at Eildred's heart. The kind that was like a crawling shadow within the woods at night, slowly reaching out to touch a person's toes before enveloping them entirely, clouds robbing moons of their silver breath. It made Eildred sweat despite the winter air pressing against his face. It made him long for light. For the sun. For Dahlia.

He reared Narsena before the gates, slowing her to a trot, five hundred knights behind him doing the same.

"Open the gates! The Queen's Guard have returned," a White Coat shouted from atop the wall.

Heavy gears clinked as they turned. A thick iron portcullis was raised and the wooden gates before it opened inward. Narsena trotted into the shadow, snorting. Eildred sniffed, shuffling uncomfortably in his saddle at the burning smell. He kept his right around his sword hilt and watched for suspicious movements from the spear bearing White Coats standing beyond the shadow of the arch. They turned to face him and bowed, showing no hostility. Eildred recognized their faces as the same on duty guards of the city's southern gates that he passed by over three months ago. He gently tugged on the reins and Narsena stopped, snorting again. "What is this burning I'm smelling?" he demanded.

"Er, riots in the capital, sir," one of the guards stammered. He raised his head, blinking as if his vision were fogged. He stood up straight in an instant. "Sir Aegis!" he saluted, only now recognizing who it was he spoke with.

"Riots?" Eildred asked, eyes narrowed.

"It started about two fortnights ago. Indiscriminate attacks against civilians by hooded figures holding flags with a burning lotus. The city's nobility mobilised their personal knights and created a perimeter around their district, protecting the Royal Plateau from any invasion. That left these troublemakers to run amok within the Commoner's District. We tried quelling it at first, but the street guilds within the Impoverished District took the opportunity to expand territory and all organizations have gone more or less underground, occasional clashes happening here and there."

It wasn't like Dahlia to abandon the people so easily. Something was happening at the palace that had her occupied. "So it’s a battle between criminals and commoners are caught in the middle? What have the White Coats been doing?" Eildred demanded, his volume rising.

"Er, we're short of staff, Sir Aegis. Half the city's soldiers went with you and…" the guard peered down the arch of the gateway, standing on his toes to try and get a glimpse past the knights. "We haven't exactly been able to leave the walls either with rebel forces spotted close to the city."

Eildred swallowed, maintaining as neutral an expression as possible. Near half the city's defenders were food for fishes. And he was to blame for all of it. He made no mention. With the city as it was, the remaining soldiers could not be fed demoralizing news.

But what of the families of the fallen? It had been painful enough to see the reaction of Qalydon's people. Eildred recalled that cruel dream he had within the forest. What if Dahlia did start hating him? What if she really did cast him out for his failure?

Questions that could be answered at a later time. He was still captain of the Guard. He still had a duty to the people and his queen. Dahlia was surely having a hard time managing both the affairs of the city and reports from outside. Eildred ordered a dismounting. He handed Narsena's reins to the guard. The knights couldn't very well charge into chaotic lanes on horseback lest they trample civilians and give these rebels an excuse to antagonize them. "All knights on me!" Eildred said. "Our objective is getting to the palace as soon as possible. Do not cause unnecessary violence. But do not abandon any civilian on our path in need of safety!" Every black armored knight saluted in uniform. Eildred turned back to the White Coat. "Take our mounts to the guardhouse stables and keep them there." The man saluted while offering a short bow.

Eildred marched into the city, back straight, height imposing, but blade undrawn. The Lotus Knights followed his lead, heavy steps on the cobbles synchronized as one like a rhythmic applause. The streets near to the walls, so close to guardhouses, were the most orderly. Shops still open. Occasional people hurrying about. Occasional people. In a capital this grand, there were never just 'occasional' amounts of people. Nothing was being done unless it needed doing. And no street stalls were set up. Shops were open but behind the safety of doors. No laugher of children on the streets. Not even a beggar at an alleyway mouth. They were all hiding deep within the shadows between buildings, positioned behind barrels and boxes. Orderly streets, but it has seen its share of violence these last few days for certain.

The chaos began when Eildred made his third turn, now about a few hundred meters from the wall. Far down the lane, people were fighting. Some with knives and others using wooden planks from broken furniture legs to bludgeon their enemies. There was the occasional burning box, one house completely ablaze and two more downright demolished without the use of fire from what Eildred could see. His vision didn't stretch much farther than a hundred meters at best, the rest being hindered by smoke or dust from damaged structures. Worse yet, who among them were civilians and who were rebels and who were criminals, he could not tell.

Some several miles of city still lay between the Guard and the palace plateau. The way to was not going to be a clean one. But that twisting nausea in Eildred's stomach would not dissipate. An instinct that he'd always had amidst a battle. A similar instinct to the one he had on sea, one that told him that danger was nigh and from where. It hadn't helped him on water, helpless as he was when maneuvering ships, but it had helped him survive many a time before when acting on such instinct. It had saved him a few times when caught within the Oakwood. Only, now his instinct screamed danger not for him, but for someone else. He looked up at the palace plateau. Something was wrong there. Dahlia was in danger. But from what and whom? Adrian? Sir L'Faleur had strict orders of staying by the queen's side at all times.

Is this instinct just my personal longing? Eildred had a fierce desire to sprint past everything, to ignore every civilian in need of aid, and get to Dahlia's side. To cut down anyone who opposed him on that path. But that simply couldn't be done. Not while he had his reputation as a knight to uphold. Not while he was still expected to be the people's champion. He had to be rational. This had to be personal longing. A longing he would have to set aside until he reached the plateau. He marched forth towards the riots, drawing his sword sharp and quick. Eyes turned to him and the Lotus Knights. Some people dropped their weapons, faces washed over with relief and tears. Others slithered back into shadows. Some more yet stood, holding their weapons against the warriors in black. Somewhere down the lane, a burning lotus flag was perched at the top of a half standing house.

***

Dahlia saw the black mass approaching from the veranda of her chambers. She clutched the two ends of her black cloak, holding them shut before her chest and feeling the thrum of her rising heart rate. The silver fur at the cloak's top tickled her neck. A flush fell over her face as she imagined Eildred's rough beard tickling instead. And then the euphoria died as she recalled that she'd sent her Guard to go with Azurus, not Eildred. If Eildred was to return, it would be with an army of White Coats behind him.

Still, a girl can hope.

She clapped both of her cheeks and took a deep breath. Exaltyron was still on fire. She could see clashes from her position, people on the streets struggling to attain basic necessities while others struggled to keep them. And of course, there were rebels and criminals causing needless violence. They seemed ants from so high up and far away. If only they were ants, if only the fires were mere lit candles, she could march out there and stamp them beneath her heels and be done with. But no.

Now that her Guard was returned, more could be done to ease the situation. She wanted to quell this rebellion before Eildred returned. He would be disheartened to see the city gone to ruin while he wasn't present.

Dahlia kept her eyes on her knights, following them as they moved through the city like a thin shadow in a labyrinth. All they had to do was reach the Nobility District where minor Houses had joined their banner men to form a perimeter, stopping the riots from spreading further. Common folk were left to hang, but Dahlia's hands were tied. She couldn't command the royal soldiers. She would need to send messengers through the chaotic city to get to guardhouses. The most she could do was force the city's nobles to send their men out to the city to aid in quashing riots.

Except every attempt ended in failure.

They tolerated each other out of common interest. But working in tandem with political rivals to save commoners? Most of the city's highborn saw that as beyond their station. Dahlia had stopped ordering them to do anything, fearing they'd start backstabbing each other when forced to cooperate just to gain political advantages. If the nobility started quarrelling now, it'd take a stiff breeze to push the rebellion into their district and then inevitably the palace plateau.

Dahlia looked down at the courtyard below. Little color remained, blossom trees mostly barren now with winter mere days away. Her fingers were growing cold. She turned back to the shelter of her room, taking one last glance beyond Exaltyron's walls in hopes of catching a glimpse of Eildred beyond them.

"Your majesty!"

Dahlia frowned. She put her hands to the rails and looked below. Two armored Queen's Guard were standing below, one waving her way. The other was fiddling with a crossbow. Armored instead of wearing uniform? The man below kept waving. Was it some childish prank? She'd been holed up in her room for a while, struggling to bear the weight of all the happenings, and they knew that. Adrian had many a time tried coming to her chambers, shadowed by Sir L'Faleur, and Dahlia had had half a mind to tell her knight off , desiring to feel the warmth of another, but she couldn't. Sickness filled her when thinking of it, thinking of being unfaithful to Eildred. But then, was Adrian really guilty? That innocent smile, those kind words and lush deep voice, would she be able to bear the guilt of executing him when the time came?

Dahlia shook her head. Not now. She couldn't let her heart waver now. Her fingers squeezed against the rails, the whites of her knuckles showing. Sometimes, a sacrifice was necessary to keep the peace. Sometimes, embracing darkness was needed to push back against an even greater void.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Dahlia eased her frown and raised her hand to wave, playing along with the prank of her Guard. A third man approached, this one in dark red uniform. One of the Queen's Guard officers. He spoke quick words which Dahlia couldn't quite decipher from her position, though by his hand gestures, he was clearly questioning his inferiors. The waving man pointed up her way. The officer peered up, one hand over his eyes to block out sunlight. Dahlia smiled and waved down at him too. And then she saw his torso get cleaved in two. She saw him fall to the grass. She saw blood spill out of a twitching body three pieces in total. There was the lower half, the upper half, and an arm that had been cut in the clean swing.

She blinked. A reflection of the sun playing tricks on me. Surely. She blinked again. Black armored guard, sword in hand dripping red, standing over a man in red uniform in three pieces, a pool of wet around him glistening beneath the late morning sun. A reflection, she tried convincing herself, breaths sharp and heart pounding. A reflection. She felt a sharp wind on her cheek, followed by stinging pain. A line of warmth trickled down the side of her face. Something struck wall behind her and then clattered to the veranda floor.

"You missed!" the guard with the sword cried.

Dahlia brought up a trembling arm to her face, touching her cheek. Blood. She glanced at her feet. A crossbow bolt. The guard below was loading his crossbow again. Dahlia fell on her rear and scrambled back, smearing the blood on her fingertips across the cold stone floor. She kicked her way back to her chambers and shut the window. A length of her sky blue gown got caught between the doors. She tugged, but it wouldn't budge. She tugged harder, screaming as she threw her weight the opposite way. The dress tore at the bottom and Dahlia fell down again, head striking the soft carpets of her room. She rolled over on her belly and pushed herself up, blinking back the fog in her eye. She could feel her nose growing runny. A line of spittle fell from her hanging lip and sunk into the carpet, forming a dark bead.

Someone had just been killed right before her eyes. Her first time seeing a living person die. No. The first time had been when she was at Madrivall's side when he'd passed on the very bed before her. This was her first time seeing someone killed. Members of her Guard killing each other. "And then trying to kill me…"

A tear fell next, another dark bead in the carpet.

Banging noises came from her door. "Your majesty! Your majesty!" a deep voice rumbled from beyond.

A squeal escaped Dahlia's mouth. She clutched her chest, each breath faster and more painful than the last. The corpse of that knight, so vivid. So horrifying. She cried out, scrambling away from her scarlet carpets. Her back hit a wardrobe with a heavy thud. It rumbled and she hugged herself, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Everything was wrong. Xenaria was torn. The capital was breaking. Her own guards were trying to kill her.

The banging on her door continued. "Your majesty! What's happening in there?" said the voice.

Dahlia wept into her knees. Sar'tara's gifted cloak was overheating her, sweat gathering across her neck and back. Why is this happening? Where did I go wrong? What did I do? I don't want this anymore. I don't want to be queen. Someone help me. Anyone. Please. Eildred, where are you?

Loud bangs on her door. Her head jerked up. "No! Stay away!" she cried. Another heavy thud, like a battering ram. "Stay away! Stay away!" she wept. They were trying to kill her. For what? What had she done to them? Dahlia searched around the room for somewhere to hide. She furiously rubbed out the stinging saltwater in her eyes. Beneath the bed? Too obvious. Drapes? Stupid. Her back ached. She turned. Wardrobe?

Another heavy thud struck her door, a sharp crack sounding. She had no time to think. She yanked open her wardrobe and stepped inside, stepping on a pile of Madrivall's neatly folded clothes. Her foot slipped and she fell inside, pressing both palms against the wardrobe's back. Half the clothes spilled out, revealing a dull sheath and a glimmering pommel. Dahlia swallowed as she turned to glance at her room's damaged doorframe. She couldn't hide in the wardrobe any longer. Not with half the clothes on the floor before it. No time to put them away.

She sucked in a breath, pain in her neck as she swallowed a lump stuck inside. She grasped at the sword with trembling fingers. Her slender arms strained with its weight, veins against her pale skin bulging. Wind's Eye. An Artifact and her family heirloom. A gift she'd planned to give to Eildred for their wedding as she'd done for his younger brother. The blade's edge scraped as she pulled it from its sheath. She gripped the longsword with both hands, already feeling muscle cramps in her forearms. It was heavy. But it was a weapon. Something she could use to defend herself with. Something that may yet let her escape this nightmare. Wind's Eye could repel any projectile aimed at its bearer. If she could just make it outside, she may yet manage to run away. Arrows wouldn't touch her with the sword.

But the Artifact was heavy. Too heavy to swing. Too heavy to run with. And she was wearing a dress with elevated shoes. Not trousers and boots. And yet, an ember of confidence spread lines of warmth through her chest. She was holding the same sword Madrivall had carried around with him. Holding the same hilt his fingers were once wrapped around. Almost as if he was there with her. Almost as if she was holding onto his hands.

The door crashed. A large man with a scarred face entered. He wore a dark red uniform and had a longsword of his own.

Dahlia's confidence turned to ash. Her knees grew weak and the weapon in her hand felt thrice fold the weight it was just a second ago. Her heart raced against the arms of time itself and her breaths were audible, short, panicking. "Stay away!" she shrieked, closing her eyes and swinging the sword left and right. She lumbered forward, the weight of the weapon carrying her against her will.

"Your majesty," rough voice called. "It's me."

"Stay away!" she said again, still swinging wildly. Her weapon caught within the wooden beam of her four poster bed. She opened her eyes and tugged, her panic growing as fast as her strength was draining. She pulled the sword out, slicing open the post. She stumbled forward again, now holding the weapon with one hand. She nearly tripped and sliced open her own knees.

Dahlia's limbs went rigid when she finally caught her balance. She stared at a pair of boots before her, a sword tip hanging right beside them. "Your majesty!" the same harsh voice said.

She squeezed her eyes shut again, afraid. They were here to kill her. She opened her mouth to scream but only squeaks came out as she lifted her weapon with all the strength in her back. It was swatted aside. Something sharp struck her face. She collapsed on her knees, head shaky and vision fuzzy. Her cheek stung from where it'd been torn, more blood flowing down. Something clattered to the floor. Two hands gripped her shoulders.

"Flames woman! It's me!" the voice yelled.

Dahlia squinted, seeing the scar across the man's mouth and one milky eye. "Sir L'Faleur?" she managed.

"Yes! Yes! Me. At least recognize when someone's trying to help you. Flames and Ashes. I can't believe I've slapped the queen. Get you up now. We have to leave. The Lotus Knights have been compromised."

"Compromised?" she asked, as Arus dragged her up. He sheathed his own sword and took hold of Wind's Eye.

"Is this… the Lakris heirloom? Your majesty, by your leave, if I could use this weapon for the time being, our chances of survival would increase."

She nodded dully, looking behind the knight. "Adrian?" she asked.

The First Chancellor gave a formal bow. Arus turned, giving the man a dirty, doubtful look. "Let's get going," he said.

Dahlia gripped Arus' arm. "Wait I…" Was it alright to say what came next? Did she have the courage to say it? She certainly didn’t have the courage to continue her duty any longer. "Take me away, please? I don't want any of this anymore. I-I can't be queen anymore."

The knight raised an eyebrow. He peeled her fingers off his arm, fixing her with a furious glare that made her shrink. "Commands refused. If you stop being queen, what becomes of this city? This nation? The people? Have you given thought to that, your majesty? What becomes of Princess Emeria? Would you, her mother, abdicate now and throw the weight of this duty on a young girl's shoulders? Let her inherit a broken kingdom and put a target on her back?"

Dahlia stuttered, struggling to find words. But there weren't any. Emma had lost her father early on. And now, Dahlia was planning on running away and leave the girl alone to hold a burning nation in her tender hands.

"Come, your majesty," Arus repeated, tugging on the sleeve of her dress.

She wiped her eyes and nodded, following him.

"I will watch her majesty's rear," Adrian said as she walked past.

Arus flashed another disgusted look his way before giving a terse nod. He marched out of the room. Dahlia hurried after him, cold air pressing against her exposed shins. Adrian took hold of her hand and matched her stride, smiling at her. The sharp scent of his perfume entered her nose as she sniffled.

Dahlia felt a growing headache, unsure of what to make of his kindness now of all times. She needed something to lean on and here he was, there for her now. But she felt wrong holding his hand. Felt wrong even thinking of admiring him. She loved him no longer. No. This was different. She almost despised him, as if she knew he was the cause of her problems. Or was it that she wanted to believe that? Again the thought of sentencing an innocent man to the block plagued her, pain pulsing through her skull.

Adrian squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, guilt suffocating her heart. If only Eildred were here.

"Chancellor Marco has already been slain," Arus was saying as he hurried down the corridor. "Along with a number of other officials and palace maids. A few have locked themselves in their rooms, but I fear they only imprison themselves."

"Where are we going?" Dahlia asked, her voice cracked from all her crying.

"I don't know if the palace can be reclaimed. The safest place that comes to mind right now is House L'Faleur's manor," the knight said. He turned a corner.

Dahlia and Adrian followed, almost bumping into him as he'd halted. Before him stood five more knights in blue coat uniforms. One had a sword in hand and the others had crossbows. A wide staircase was behind them, bodies of servants and other knights littered upon the steps.

"Sir L'Faleur," the sword bearer said. "I'm going to have to ask you to hand over Dahlia."

"That's Her Majesty, Queen Dahlia," the scarred knight hissed, taking a ready stance. "What happened, Corvil? I thought of you as one of the better ones. You'd been stationed at the bottom of this very staircase many a time."

"Things changed," Corvil said, stepping aside closer to the walls. "Put your sword down, Sir L'Faleur and we can handle this without bloodshed. Else," and he gestured to the four knights with crossbows not two dozen feet away from Arus, "you die. I don't wish to kill you. I admire your strength like many others in the Queen's Guard. You along with your twin brother, and Sir Aegis and Sir Orne… All of you are needed for the new future of Xenaria. So please, step aside and hand over the queen."

Arus shifted. Dahlia could see a sheen of sweat on his hands, curled around the hilt of Wind's Eye as they were. He was doubting the Artifact's power. "Things changed huh? What changed? What changed to lead to this madness?" Arus demanded.

Dahlia felt her knees buckle as her eyes passed over reluctant and damaged expressions of her knights bearing crossbows. Queen's Guard, holding a weapon to their queen. She felt herself growing cold with fear. Felt terribly alone with a single guard still fighting for her. Adrian squeezed her hand again. She found no comfort there.

"Everything changed! My father's debts were called against him and he was assassinated for it. Now the bastards have my younger sister and want to use her to make up for the debt! I won't ask again, Sir L'Faleur. Please just give me the queen or these men will fire as they did upon those you see on the stairwell."

"Are you insane?" Arus bellowed. "What, you couldn't pay off the bloody debt with your pay from the Guard? You'd bother to flip this nation on its head for one person? The Guard's duty is to her majesty alone and no one else!"

"That isn’t it!" Corvil countered. "All of us here have something we lost, something else to protect. We… we cannot protect her majesty any longer. This nation has already been torn. Just look at the capital. These criminals have only gotten at our families because the rebellion has spread so far. I can't pay off my debt if my own position and pay has become something precarious. Queen Dahlia doesn't have power any longer. We might yet have a position to play when these rebels take control if we hand the queen over. We could still work from the top and guide Xenaria to a better place. Forgive us, your majesty, but we can't turn back. Not now. Sir L'Faleur, I will count to three. Drop your weapon or we will—"

Arus howled as he charged the blue uniformed knight. Corvil, caught off guard, barely managed to parry the heavy blow.

"Fire! Fire!" the traitorous knight cried.

Click, twang! Four bolts flashed towards Arus. All four veered off course and struck the walls on either side. Corvil stared as Wind's Eye came down. His head fell to the floor in a thud and rolled a few meters, eyes still wide and mouth still agape. The four remaining knights dropped their crossbows and fumbled for the swords at their waist. Arus wouldn't let them. All four stood in a line as if awaiting slaughter. With a mighty roar, Arus cleaved all four heads in a single swing, blood spraying on the walls and pouring out of necks like wine poured from a pitcher.

Dahlia found herself on her knees again, one hand clamped over her mouth. She gagged and emptied out her stomach. An acidic taste lingered in her mouth and stung the back of her throat. A shadow overwhelmed her. She looked up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Arus stood over her, one hand holding the bloody Artifact and the other hand held out for her to take.

"Up your majesty," he ordered.

Adrian too had his hand held out, his expression full of worry. Dahlia picked herself up, earning a smile from her guard. She could only wipe her tears on repeat as they stepped through the reddened floor and descended past the corpse littered stairs.