Marcus did a shit job of explaining things. Thankfully a stage hand noticed we were standing in the wrong order and made up for his mistake. They explained that there were marks on the near and far side of the stage. We were to stand at ease in alphabetical order and listen to the king’s speech, then he would call us one by one to give us our shields, after which we would stand on the marks at the far side of the stage as the king gave another speech. After was the reception where we would walk around talking to people about the war. As we waited I could hear the noise of the crowd in the ballroom. It made this more real, which put me at ease for some reason.
The stage hand stayed with us to make sure we went on at the right time. When they sent us out it took a while for my eyes to adjust. It was so bright, and surprisingly loud, but looking over the crowd I didn’t feel anything. My mind was stuck on trying to decide if this was a big or small crowd, and the fashion was distracting. I had never seen so many rich people in one place and the effect was almost comical.
The crowd didn’t notice when the king walked on stage. I didn’t see where he came from, he seemed to just appear out of nowhere. It was strange, I had seen portraits of course, and he looked like them, but he had an unassuming presence, nothing like the powerful king in the pictures. He stood, relaxed, hands behind his back, happy to wait for the crowd to slowly realize he was waiting for them to be quiet. His naval uniform covered in medals, his tall stature, the pistol on his hip, his father’s rifle on his back, something should have gotten everyone’s attention. The most powerful man in the kingdom looked over the crowd with a soft smile, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. As we waited he smiled at us and shrugged apologetically. I smiled back at him. If I had a grandfather I would imagine him. His gray beard and locs made him seem wise, and deep wrinkles in his face when he smiled made his warmth seem all the more genuine, even though I knew it wasn’t. I don’t know how he managed to not be intimidating, how I felt more relaxed with him on stage..
After what felt like ages the ballroom finally fell silent. The King still didn’t say anything, he seemed to enjoy the silence, even closing his eyes for a moment. When he finally spoke his voice was strangely normal, like he was talking to a friend, just louder, but only enough to fill the ballroom.
“Now, we all know why we are here, and I thank you all for the contribution you have made to the army to be here. I want to ask for more. It breaks my heart that a war can be old news, that our soldiers fight and die and the papers don’t consider it worth a mention. Another unnamed battle, another raid on our trenches forgotten. It’s not right. Please, remember, and talk about it. Here it feels like peace, but that feeling is a lie, do not fall for it. These four here stopped a potential breakthrough. If they hadn’t been there, well, God put them there, and by his grace we don’t need to worry about what might have happened. With their officers dead, the lines cut from the bombardment, they saw their position was going to be overrun and organized a retreat while they stayed behind holding back hundreds with a single gatling gun. As a last heroic act they used a targeting flare to call our own artillery down on them. Thanks to their quick thinking and our artillery it was easy to retake our trenches. Please, understand, that when the papers say the front is unchanged, or worse, say nothing at all, that it is thanks to the blood and heroism of our army that the line holds.” The king turned to us, spoke to us, his back to the crowd. “Now, onto the shields. They represent the way you protected the Kingdom of Matara, but that is only half of it. In thanks, the Kingdom of Matara now protects you. Whatever happens, remember that, and enjoy peace, enjoy your lives, or go back to war if you want, it is up to you. I hope you continue to serve in some way, army, navy, politics, I know you will excel. My point is, after things settle down, remember nothing is beyond your reach now, Matara owes you.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. His voice changed a little, he sounded more like a king now.
“Private Anne Mwenya, please come forward and receive your shield.”
She walked to the king. He pinned the little silver version of a traditional hide shield to her jacket and hugged her. I didn’t expect that, and clearly neither did Anne. I didn’t like the idea of hugging him, but when it was my turn it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. He seemed kind even up close, and the hug was brief. To my surprise the king didn’t give another speech, he followed me and ushered all of us offstage into the crowd. There was some scattered applause, the audience as confused as we were by the King’s behavior.
The reception was awful. Over and over I described trench foot to rich people who stared at me with horror and disbelief. It took so much effort to convince them that good boots and dry socks was all it took, and that we really lacked them in the trenches. The King was surprisingly helpful. He mostly stayed with us as we made our way around the room, nodding along in agreement, saying nothing, and redirecting back to us if anyone asked him anything directly. We tried talking about lice, but it didn’t seem to have the same impact, I guess because it is hard to understand how much worse they are in the trenches. The passive aggressive comments about how I was better than other demons wore me down and I struggled to keep my temper under control. Anne helped with that, she never left my side, letting me keep my arm around her, but we got stares for it. It was frustrating that no one said anything good or bad about us, that no one acknowledged we were clearly together.
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I raised my voice a little in anger at a stupid question and thankfully the King noticed and bailed me out.
“I am not as young as I used to be,” he said to no one in particular, “and I would like to speak privately to our new shields.” Everyone we passed gave the King a slight nod as he led us to a side room. He had clearly planned this. There were no servants, just a table with five chairs and some wine and bread on it.
“I’m sorry,” the King said as his demeanor changed. He seemed suddenly tired as he took the rifle off his back, placed it on the table, and sat down, leaning back into the chair. “I have tried to get the word out, about how bad the trenches are, but it is unpleasant to read about, so no one reads about it. Socks though, that is a good idea, I might be able to manage that. Boots are too political, they are expensive, and a visible part of the uniform, a little beyond me. You would think being King I would be able to do what I want but every charitable donation is a potential political shitshow so I have to be very careful.”
I was stunned by the King’s sudden openness and didn’t think to say anything.
“Thank you, your majesty.” Anne said with a little bow.
“No, thank you, and come, sit down, relax. I am the son of the Liberator, I treasure these moments when I can talk to people the way he did. It is frustrating that I have been forced to spend my reign holding Matara together. When I was a child I wondered what great social change I would bring, how I would live up to my father’s legacy, but,” he shook his head “I know better than to think you are ignorant of politics, of why you were fast tracked for the shields, and I want to be clear, you were fast tracked, but you deserve them, I would not have given them to you otherwise. Now I have to rebuild our navy, and quickly, with our ally of the faith’s great fleet suddenly obsolete, and we will have to get the money from somewhere, just another fucking crisis that if I handle well no one will remember and if I fuck it up, “ he sighed, “It is clearly what God wants from me and I do my best, but we can’t handle an invasion, we haven’t even come close to recovering from slavery.”
We all looked at the rifle on the table.
“Is that really it?” Anne asked nervously.
The King nodded, “Yes it is. My father proudly executed 436 slavers with it.” There was a pause before he asked Anne, “Want to hold it?”
“You would let us be armed in your presence?” Kate asked in disbelief.
The King laughed, “First of all, it isn’t loaded, and it’s a muzzle loader so that isn’t happening quick, second, you didn’t think it strange you weren’t searched? I forbid it. The way I see it, if war heroes want to assassinate me, especially the first time we meet, I have profoundly failed as King and likely deserve it.”
He pushed the rifle towards Anne. She picked it up and pointed it at the wall and looked down the sights, smiling.
“Pass it around,” the King said, “I may be taking advantage of you to complain about being in my father’s shadow, but that rifle is special, and you won’t get a chance like this again, to hold a part of history that will never be forgotten. He was a good man and a good king, a rare combination.”
I wanted to feel something profound when I held the rifle. It was beautiful, made of ivory and metal, prayers carved elegantly into the ivory. I wanted to feel like it mattered, that this moment mattered, that all the lives given to end the greatest evil were in some way connected to this rifle, the one that fired the last shots of liberation, but it was before I was born. It wasn’t my fight and holding the rifle now didn’t change that so I passed it to Rebecca.
“Anyway,” the King said, “I want to apologize, I have not managed any social change, and it seems likely I never will. God seems to want me to hold the kingdom together and do little else, but I am still my father’s son. I may be king but I am not a royalist. I have no issue with gay people, orphans need homes, that is clearly why God made you, and even for demons, it is clear God judges us on how we overcome our sinful nature, as you have Zalgeth, not on how we are born. It doesn’t help that the house of commons has fewer true commoners in it every election. Anyway, my point is, if you need help, reach out. There are many small things I can do easily without attracting any undue attention, and it would be nice to have a meal with any of you at some point. It is hard for me to have long talks with commoners without the royalists getting suspicious, and your shields give me the perfect excuse. I would like to hear first hand what life is really like out there.”
“We would be honored.” Kate said, the rest of us nodding in agreement.
“Thank you, and I have one more thing before I go, then you can relax.” The King laughed, he was clearly aware how uncomfortable this was for us. “Zalgeth,” he turned to me and gave me a small metal box from his pocket, “here are citizenship papers. My lawyers assure me that this works, even though the law isn’t meant to be used for demons. You can now vote, own property, and run for office, and I hope you all consider running. I want people I can respect in the house of commons. Anyway, in case someone doesn’t believe you there is a letter in my own hand explaining how it all works legally. If they still don’t believe you, reach out to me.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” I said, desperate not to offend the man who had so much power over me.
He smiled warmly, “Relax, it’s the least I could do.” He picked up his father's rifle from the table and left, giving us a smile and a friendly wave before he closed the door behind him.