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The Enclave between Aucksbau and Bryvwuld
Chapter Three: Death to Tyrants!

Chapter Three: Death to Tyrants!

The audience was silent as they gathered about the rostrum, and Valum could feel the uneasiness it brought. Marcranus stood erect upon the stage, wincing as if every attempt to remain in such a posture irritated his wounds. He balanced himself on his secretary, who declared the words that were spoken to him:

“My citizens, today I stand before you not in the marble and golden halls of those born in purple, but within the public space of your own streets. I do this because I speak to you now not as a governor, but as a fellow countryman; a loyal citizen within the enduring union of our own fatherland. So it is that the loyal man seeks out and extinguishes those who taint the very fabric of our frail and precious State by treachery, so do I venture before you to address the rumors which have become unmistakably true; that which threatens to tear the very cohesion of our State in two. The Els have broken the Covenant of Lye and Poul, provoked disloyalty amongst our fellow citizens, and turned their thoughts to false gods. This I warned you of, long ere I came today, so that those so blessed with ignorance of the conspiracy may be wary. But even so, it appears that my words were condemned and disregarded as swift as they were uttered. This has only sounded more fiercely your fanaticism and sedition and has only revealed to me the extent to which it has corrupted you. Your bellies get fat on greed, listening to that song that the silver-tongued sing. My—”

Marcranus sidestepped as a rock hurtled towards him, then nearly dived onto the floor as he evaded the barrage that followed.

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“You brought this upon us!”

“Food not war!”

“Free the afflicted!”

“Death to the tyrant!”

Valum sprinted over to the steps of the rostrum, looking between the lines of soldiers that guarded them. “Governor, its Valum! Let me speak! Let me speak!”

Marcranus glared at him and turned away.

“We’ve done nothing wrong!” he continued. “The Els only fed us! Everyone here will say that! Stop this!”

“Ninety-nine fools out of a hundred men who believe a lie makes it the truth, Valum, while the single man who knows the truth makes it a lie! I shall not see the truth die with me!” Marcranus groaned as a rock struck its target on the back of the head.

“Unruly cur!” he bellowed. “By tomorrow I’ll be reveling in the sight of your heads atop the rampart spikes! Then I’ll reward your Elsic benefactors by razing their Enclave to the ground!”

The cries of the gathered spiraled into an uproar. Valum frantically pushed himself into the crowd as they began to throw their combined weight into the lines of soldiers. The sound of the guardsmen unsheathing their swords was the last thing he heard before feeling a sharp pain pass through him as he was hurled backward. Yet even as he collapsed upon the ground and was trampled, the mob pushed forward until the ranks of their opponents broke. Valum fought through the masses of bodies towards the edge of the stairway, his broken legs buckling under the weight of his own body. There he sat, watching the governor's secretary succumb to the men who bludgeoned him and tore his robes into fragments to be divided. Then they turned their hands to their tyrant. Stripping him of his clothes, they secured him to the ground and degraded him with all manner of instruments before partitioning his body. At last, his head was paraded above the host to the sound of cheers.