She could see the whites of Tarkan’s eyes when they widened and the light from the towering pillar of fire caught his face. He didn’t seem to know where to look when two identical men flew towards him, weapons in hand. If Beks didn’t know any better, she would’ve described him as awestruck.
Laz was coming in from the right while Lucian was attacking from the left.
Beks heard Tarkan take a sharp breath, and speak a name in his stupor.
“Timur.”
He broke through his daze just as the twins reached him.
Tarkan gripped a dagger in his right arm, but with the two younger men approaching at the same time from opposite sides, he could only defend one side.
He chose to turn his body, lowering his dagger to defend against Lucian’s attack aimed at his chest, but sacrificed his shoulder and upper arm to Laz’s blade aiming for his neck. The scent of blood filled the air and Beks watched the splatter of dark red hit their pale faces.
Tarkan’s arm and shoulder were severely slashed. The steward she was holding on to struggled against her and Beks pulled back, reining him in and planting her feet on the ground to keep steady.
“If you get involved now, they will kill you,” she told him in a low voice. The steward shrank back. She kept her eyes on the three men fighting before the front steps of the main building.
Beks didn’t know if Tarkan had any martial experience, and if he did, if he kept up his training and how good he currently was. However, she did know that the twins, in particular Laz, had plenty of recent experience. An active, battle worn commander was leagues better than a pot-bellied middle-aged man who spent most of his life idle.
“What’s the matter, Uncle?” Laz’s mocking voice reached her ears as Tarkan let out a hiss. “Can’t recognize your foreign-born nephews after all these years?”
“You look speechless,” Lucian said, his eyes narrowed and fixed on Tarkan’s grimacing face.
The man glared at them as he stepped back. “What are you doing here?”
“I think it’s fairly obvious what we’re doing here,” Laz said with a slight smirk. He readjusted the dagger in his hand.
Lucian’s eyes never left Tarkan. “Should we behead him now or wait for Geel?”
“Let’s behead him in front of Geel to show our support.”
Tarkan growled in response to their casual words. “Who you think you are-”
The twins had put distance between themselves and their uncle. They didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence before rushing forward with another attack. The first had caused Tarkan to step back and lose his concentration. He seemed to be reeling at the fact that his estranged nephews had returned and turned against him.
His awkward steps opened him to attack. His arms flailed at his side in an attempt to steady himself.
Laz’s dagger cut his shoulder and lower neck. It wasn’t high enough to get a main artery, but it was enough to make Tarkan scream and instinctively reach up to cover and put pressure on the wound.
Lucian kicked him in the stomach, causing Tarkan to stumble back. He managed to grab the post of the railing going up the steps of the house, but a ball of fire shot down and hit the stone brick walkway beside him. He let out a cry as he pulled his arm back and stumbled, landing hard against the steps, spraying them with blood that he was trying to contain.
Tarkan seemed to choke on his own blood. “Guards!”
A little too late, in Beks’ opinion. “Gerard! Pull the fire into a wall! Seal us off!”
Gerard rushed on to the path to get closer to the pillar of fire on the other side of the courtyard wall. He seemed to gather all his biha before throwing his hands together. Beks could feel the gust of wind against her as the air moved.
All of Gerard’s concentration was on pulling flames forward and surrounding them, blocking them from the entrance of the courtyard to prevent any additional guards from entering.
Beks tightened her hold on the steward and half dragged him to the main building. Being taller than him helped. As she passed Gerard, she put her hand on his shoulder to refill his biha before walking towards the steps just in time to see Lucian step down and dislocate Tarkan’s knee. She could hear Tarkan’s dry, scratchy screaming over the roar of the fire and wind.
Laz kicked Tarkan’s dagger to the side before picking it up.
“Bring him inside,” Laz said, making a motion with his arm and pointing towards the entrance. Lucian slid his dagger into his belt and reached down, grabbing Tarkan, and pulling him to his feet before twisting his arm behind him and pushing him up the steps.
Beks dragged the gagged steward up without question.
Inside, three maids and a woman screamed and scrambled from the antechamber into the main room like frantic birds. The three maids, dressed in a similar uniform as Beks’ disguise, huddled around a loosely dressed woman with tousled dark hair to try to protect her.
“Bring us scarves,” Beks told them in Langsher. The women trembled, but didn’t move from where they were crouched in a space between the elevated wooden bedframe and a wardrobe. Beks took a deep breath to calm down. With her free hand she pointed at the nearest maid. “You. Bring us all of your lady’s scarves. It doesn’t matter how they look, as long as they are sturdy. If you cooperate, I will ensure you will not be killed.”
As if to emphasize the danger of not listening to her, Lucian unceremoniously dumped the bleeding Tarkan on to the flood at the side of the bed. A few women screamed and the woman with the tousled hair pushed her maid out to help.
Trembling, the young maid avoided looking at the twins and Beks as she rushed to the wardrobe and pulled out an armful of colorful scarves. They almost dragged on the floor as the maid presented them at Bek’s feet.
Lucian walked forward, sending the maid running back to the other three women. Lucian ignored her and pulled out three long scarves. Laz stood two steps from Tarkan, keeping an eye on him. The moment Tarkan tried to roll to the side, Laz stepped forward and slammed his foot on Tarkan’s back.
“Ahh!” The choked cry filled the air, but Laz kept his foot firmly down.
“Does he really think he can get away at this point?” Lucian shook his head with scarves in hand. He returned to his uncle and began tying his arms behind his back, his knees, and then his ankles.
“Cover the wounds,” Laz said. “We can’t let him bleed out before Geel returns.”
“I almost forgot about that,” Lucian replied in a calm voice, as if the bleeding man before him was so insignificant that he was forgettable.
Tarkan was left on the floor, reminding Beks of whole pigs that were about to be roasted on a spit. Laz brought over a heavy wooden chair and Lucian heaved Tarkan onto it, further tying him to the chair. Once he was secured, Lucian was surprisingly careful in wrapping up the wounds to contain the bleeding.
“Now then,” Lucian said, turning his attention to the steward.
The steward shrank back, almost trying to hide behind Beks. “Let him speak,” Laz told her.
Beks loosened he scarf around the steward’s mouth. At once, he lowered his head. “Your Highnesses!”
“Steward Jangru! Whatever they say, don’t listen to them!” Tarkan said.
Laz let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. “You are in no position to talk, dear uncle.” In the dim light of the room, Beks could see the dark mass seeping from Laz and moving towards Tarkan. “Here is what will happen. If you and everyone else in this room want to live for now, your steward will send the call for court tomorrow. Summons will be sent to General Leung to withdraw his troops.”
Tarkan sneered. “I see...you know you can’t win against my army, so you’ve resorted to this!”
Beks scoffed. “Don’t make it sound as if this is a desperate attempt. It isn’t. This is the most logical method to end the war of succession in Geel’s favor. It will avoid needless bloodshed of soldiers dedicated to the empire, as well as get rid of the root of the problem.”
Tarkan narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “And who are you to speak to me like that?”
Laz and Lucian’s faces both darkened at once. Tarkan began to shudder as the shadows from Laz coiled around his body, chilling his skin.
“She is our wife,” Laz replied in a low, threatening voice. “What she says is what we mean.”
Despite the situation, Beks couldn’t help but feel flattered. She contained her smile at Laz’s words behind a frigid exterior to keep her threatening appearance.
Tarkan lifted his eyes to Laz. “What is Zhanzhin giving you? I will double it. Just name your price.”
“Our price is to put our cousin on the throne, where he belongs,” Lucian said.
Tarkan sneered at them. “Do you believe he will leave you alone after this is over? If he turned on me, he will turn on you! Blood is nothing in the imperial family!”
“He didn’t turn on you,” Beks said. “You turned on him.”
“Empress Saran allowed you to live an idle life, but you did not appreciate her consideration and sent assassins after her son,” Lucian said. “Tuvanaks keep their word.”
While she trusted her husbands, Beks didn’t put her trust in the statement that Tuvanaks kept their word. Rather, she assessed the situation in Langshe and with Crown Prince Zhanzhin. Langshe had a large empire and they didn’t have time or resources to spare in a war of conquest. For centuries, it was unlikely that they’d try to expand westward past their borders, not because they didn’t want to, but because it was too much trouble.
In the end, simply being the largest empire on the continent was enough to gain significant advantages in trade. A settled, stable country was able to flourish much easier than one that was constantly turbulent with conflict.
The Crown Prince himself was unlikely to turn against Laz and Lucian. First, because they were his cousins and he sincerely cared about them. Second, the twins were backed by a force he did not expect, and would make any opponent reconsider. That force being her, her family, and their element manipulating special forces. It would only be beneficial to stay on good terms.
Her intuition said not to worry, but she didn’t want Laz or Lucian to have any second guesses.
“Gag him until Geel returns,” Beks told them.
“Yes, that’s the most important part.” Laz chuckled. Lucian sorted through the scarves to find ones suitable for gagging.
He then took the steward and Beks turned her attention to the four women.
“Stay where you are until I tell you. If you try to run out, we have a soldier outside guarding the courtyard, and above us, our people will burn you to a crisp. Sit here until I give you the order,” Beks told them.
They’d seen the pillar of fire from the inside of the building and shuddered. Laz sat the steward down to talk while Lucian walked back to the open doors. The wall of fire continued and Gerard had his arms down, meaning the fire was likely fed by Deo. Gerard was dragging bodies to the side to keep them hidden while the distraction was in place.
“Gerard, prepare for phase two.”
Gerard nodded and let out a whistle.
Beks turned her attention to tying up the women. Phase two was to retrieve the Crown Prince now that Tarkan had been captured. Gerard would fly to pick him up while her brothers remained above to provide a cover and distraction. When Gerard returned, he’d go fetch more of their soldiers.
Beks dragged heavy wooden chairs to the sides of the bed, where the hard wood bedframe was carved with elaborate flowers. Beks tied the backs of three chairs to the bedframe, and then secured the fourth chair against a pillar.
She then had the women sit and tied their arms to the backs of the chairs and ankles to the legs. They looked terrified, but Beks was calm.
“We’re not going to kill you,” she told them in a softer voice. “So long as you don’t cause any problems.” She pulled a changing screen forward and positioned it so that the women would be hidden from view from the entrance of the room.
“Beks, tea?” Lucian had turned her attention to preparing some tea that had been placed on the table.
From the chair where he was tied, Tarkan shot his nephew a hateful glare.
“Do you understand Steward Jangru?” Laz said. Lucian prepared some tea for them and Beks took a seat on a stool.
The steward swallowed hard and bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“If you betray us, this entire palace will go up in flames,” Laz reminded him in a relaxed voice. Lucian handed him some tea and Laz took a small sip. He rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t have heated it up more?”
The calmness of the twins must’ve unnerved the steward, who nodded his head up and down frantically. “I understand, Your Highnesses. I will calm the guard and summon the courtiers for a morning meeting.”
“Bring the imperial robes here,” Laz said.
The steward froze. His face paled more so. “You...you want the imperial robes?”
“I don’t want them, but my cousin will arrive soon,” Laz said. He leaned back against his chair and met the steward’s eyes with cold ones of his own. “It is a bit inappropriate for him to appear in court in blood-stained clothes, is it not?”
The steward swallowed once more and nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Beks finished her tea. The doors were closed once Gerard left, but the light from the fire was no longer coming through the windows.
“The guards will come soon,” she said as she put her cup down. Laz and Lucian looked at the steward, who shrank his head back.
With the steward in front of them, Laz and Lucian headed towards the door. They pulled their hair back and lifted the hoods and face coverings that was reminiscent of the inner imperial guards.
As predicted, a half dozen inner imperial guards in black uniforms marched in. Beyond the courtyard gates, there was still a flurry of voices as flames shot up from various structures that had caught fire in the surrounding area.
Upon the sight of the Steward Jangru, the guards stopped and seemed to be at ease.
“Steward Jangru, how is the Emperor?”
The steward played his part well. He raised a hand to calm them.
“The Emperor has returned to Lady Bing’s chambers. He has ordered an investigation into the fires and will summon the court in the morning to address the attack.” His voice was steady, as if he hadn’t been forced to stay those words by the men looming behind him.
“Our people are looking into the fires, Steward Jangru,” the guard at the forefront of the half dozen reported. “We will stand guard.”
“Two in the front and four patrolling around the perimeter of the outer courtyard. He has ordered another half dozen to prepare themselves by the well in case the fire spreads here,” Steward Jangru told them, hinting at some selfishness from the Emperor. It was not out of place.
“Yes, Steward!”
Steward Jangru turned to the twins behind him. “You two, guard the antechamber. You are not allowed to leave until His Majesty leaves!”
The two didn’t speak. They seemed to mirror the posture of the guards who had arrived and rooted themselves by the door.
The steward then marched out followed by the half dozen guards. When they exited the gate, the steward ordered them to close it and stand guard. Once the gates were closed, the twins slipped back into the building and closed the door.
“Do you think he’s trustworthy?” Beks asked, her eyes lingering at the door before looking towards the twins.
“No, but he is afraid,” Laz replied.
“Come and sit,” Lucian said. He reached out to hold her, but seemed to notice the blood on his clothes. Blood wasn’t too noticeable on black, but the areas with staining were still wet and caught in the light. He frowned and pulled back, turning to glare at his uncle, as if blaming him for the blood.
“It won’t take too long for Gerard to fetch Geel,” Laz said. “We should be ready to receive them.”
“Should we be worried about the courtiers?” Beks asked.
The two brothers looked at her for a moment and shook their heads. “No matter how outnumbered we are here, once Geel takes his throne, there will be little to no opposition. Don’t worry, Beks.”
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“Don’t worry, Amrei.” The Crown Prince gave her a reassuring smile as he wiped the blood off his hand after back handing Tarkan’s face. A tooth had flown out of his mouth and landed on the floor, at Laz’s feet. “The courtiers and the guards will follow the orders of the rightful Emperor. They know full well who was supposed to take the throne after my mother died.”
“With your mother be pleased with you siding with outsiders?” Tarkan glowered. His face was pale and he was out of breath. It was a task for him to speak. His bruised head looked up at the Crown Prince with spiteful eyes.
“Outsiders?” The Crown Prince raised a brow, as if what Tarkan said was absurd. “They are my cousins. By the way, Uncle, have you congratulated your two nephews on their marriage?”
Tarkan only continued to glower, though his breathing was growing uneven. Beks wasn’t sure if it were because he’d lost so much blood or if he were simply furious.
“You still haven’t answered us,” Laz said in a low voice as his face remained cold and unmoving. “Did you have a hand in the late Empress’ death?”
“She was already dying.” Tarkan spat out. “I only sped up the process.”
The Crown Prince seemed to forget that he’d just wiped his hand and backhanded Tarkan once more. His face flushed with anger, and Lucian stepped forward to restrain him. The Crown Prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“This isn’t something that surprises us, Geel,” Lucian said. “We’ve always suspected he had a hand in Aunt’s death and your assassination attempt.”
“Regardless, suspecting it and actual confirmation are two different things,” their cousin replied in a strained voice. His breathing trembled as he tried to calm himself.
“All parties involved will be punished, Geel.” Laz placed a hand on the Crown Prince’s shoulder to calm him.
Beks sat on a chair by the window, watching their interrogation. In Tarkan’s state, not much could be done to force him to answer their questions, as he could barely hold his head up. It was when Tarkan admitted that the Crown Prince’s younger sister, Princess Enjek’s husband was bought over by Tarkan that the twins and the Crown Prince showed actual concern.
“Your wife and child aren’t safe. I’m not as foolish as your mother, trusting relatives who say they have no interest.” Tarkan sneered.
The Crown Prince began to tremble and Beks stood up.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Stop trying to scare them. Do you think your hands can reach as far as ours?” she asked. “We’ve already found and secured the safety of Princess Enjek, the Crown Princess, and Geel’s son.”
At this, the four men snapped their heads towards her.
“Beks?” Laz asked.
“My mother’s network is extensive. I asked her to search for Geel’s wife and son to make sure they were protected in case they were chased, as Geel was. As a precaution, she took it upon herself to find Princess Enjek and secure her safety,” Beks said. “Wrath told me that our mother hasn’t been back to the island because of this, so I called my father and he confirmed that she was doing some due diligence on the matter. Also, the Ambassador has applied as a political refugee for him and the Princess in Aehamake. You didn’t buy over anyone. He is the one who delayed.” She paused and looked at the Crown Prince. “Your family is safe, Geel.”
A knock came from the door and Beks looked over her shoulder. Gerard stood up straight from where he was standing on guard in the antechamber. Beks gave Tarkan one more silencing look before walking to the entrance and adjusting her clothing.
“His Majesty does not wish to be bothered,” Beks said as she passed Gerard and stood just behind the door, past the limits of the leviathan’s scale that kept the yelling and struggles of the inner chamber from leaking out.
“I have brought the robes His Majesty has requested!” It was Steward Jangru. She looked to Gerard, who lifted the fabric that covered his nose and mouth up, and nodded. Gerard opened the door.
The short old man stood beside three boxes piled on top of each other from widest to narrowest. The matching wooden boxes were gilded around the edges with elegant landscape scenes created by mosaics of semi-precious stones.
“I had the guards carry it here. I can only lift the head piece by myself, Your Highness,” he said with an apologetic bow. He was smart enough to send the guards out before knocking.
Beks gave Gerard another nod and the hulking bald man walked over the threshold, making the steward jump.
“Come inside. You will help His Majesty dress,” Beks told him. Gerard lifted all three boxes at once with ease. The steward shuddered and followed behind. Once he entered, Beks closed the doors.
“Steward Jangru.” The steward froze in his spot as the Crown Prince called his name. Inside the main chamber, the Crown Prince turned around to face the newly arrived steward with a distant expression. “I’d hate to think that you had a hand in all of this.”
A thud was heard as the steward threw himself on the ground, prostrating at the Crown Prince’s feet as he began to beg for forgiveness and try to explain that they were told that he had died, so they had no choice but to follow Tarkan.
The Crown Prince lifted his hand. The small motion silenced at the steward’s choked pleas as once.
“Have the courtiers and ministers been summoned to morning court?” The Crown Prince didn’t seem to want any more excuses and got straight to the point.
The steward remained on his knees, his face against the floor. “Yes, Your Majesty! The orders to General Leung, General Geng, and General Sun to withdraw the army have been sent, as well.”
The Crown Prince nodded once. “Help me dress.” He looked at Laz. “Gag him.” He didn’t have to say who ‘him’ was. Laz picked up the scrunched, moist fabric from the floor and walked to Tarkan. He grabbed the man’s hair and pulled his head back before stuffing the fabric into his mouth. Tarkan didn’t put up much of a fight.
His eyes were clouded over. If the Crown Prince didn’t kill him in a few hours, he would die before the day was over.
Beks bowed and excused herself to wait in the antechamber with Gerard while the Crown Prince changed from his dust covered clothes from the field to the gold and silver robes meant for the emperor to wear to court.
The maids and Tarkan’s mistress had their heads covered and their mouths gagged. They were kept behind a screen as the Crown Prince changed.
Beks leaned beside the window. Window panels that let in light in Langshe were made of thinly sliced alabaster. They were not clear, but she could tell that dawn was going to break soon.
“My lady, are you hungry? Efren passed this along for you,” Gerard said. He had a black bag that melted in with his clothing around his body. Beks looked over as he shuffled it to the front and opened the folds.
A clean piece of cloth wrapped some halves of a round bread with some fried balls and sauce inside. Beks’ hand lowered to her stomach.
“I knew bringing him on the trip would be beneficial for everyone. Thanks, Gerard.” She gladly accepted her snack and offered to share it with him. Gerard smiled weakly.
“I already ate my share.”
“When did you eat it?” She hadn’t seen him eating since he arrived with the Crown Prince.
“...on the flight. The Crown Prince had a share, too.”
“And us?” Gerard tensed as Laz spoke behind him. Gerard slowly turned around to face the two identical men.
“Ah...I was not given...a lot....” Gerard winced and Beks chuckled.
She lifted the remaining bread in her hands and split it in two. “Here.” She lifted up a piece to each man.
Laz took it and shot Gerard a glare.
“While it’s still dark, we should go the great hall to wait for the courtiers,” Lucian said as he accepted the food. “The morning court will start about an hour after sunrise.”
“Are you sure we don’t need more people?” Beks asked. “My brother went to retrieve a few more soldiers.”
“Vice-Commander and the two guards he brought back with Geel are enough,” Laz told her. “I’m telling you, Beks. The courtiers will bow to whoever is on the throne.”
“They will especially bow when Tarkan is brought before them.” They turned towards the main chamber and saw the figure of a man in long gold robes wearing a heavy headpiece inlaid with pearls and tassels obscuring his face.
Beks straightened up, swallowing the last bite of her food.
“Geel-I mean, Your Majesty.” Laz smiled as he and Lucian gave the Crown Prince, or rather, now Emperor, small bows of their head.
The new Emperor cracked a slight smile, though there was some pain in his reddish eyes. “How does it look? Imperial?”
“Very imperial, Geel,” Lucian said. “This is how it should’ve been.”
The Emperor nodded his head once, making the tassels move. He took a deep breath, keeping his shoulders back and his back straight. “Laz, Lucian, wrap Tarkan in one of the blankets. Make sure his head is covered and bring him with us.”
“Gerard.” Laz nodded towards the largest man in the room. Gerard nodded and followed the two into the chamber, knowing he was going to be the one to carry in the barely conscious usurper.
The scarf keeping Tarkan upright on the chair was untied, sending the man sliding off the chair in his weakened state. The blanket Gerard held awaited him and he was wrapped up. The blanket was secured around his knees and neck, and Lucian made sure that Tarkan’s head was fully covered and hidden from view.
Tarkan was heaved onto Gerard’s shoulder with ease, and the Emperor looked towards the door. “Steward Jangru.”
“Your Majesty.” The steward rushed to the side and bowed at the waist.
The Emperor looked towards the door. “Take us to the great hall.”
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In Kadmus, an additional show of force would’ve been necessary to get it into the courtiers’ heads that the leadership of the country had changed. The late Queen had stormed the royal grounds with her first consort Alexios, Uncle Timur, and her supporters, dug out her second brother from where he was hiding, intercepted her father who had been trying to flee, and dragged them to be beheaded at the edge of the old moat.
It happened in front of whatever captured and restrained court members they had managed to catch, and given the ultimatum of swearing allegiance to the new Queen or joining their old king’s head in the moat.
In the Summer Palace’s throne room, something similar happened, though with much less fanfare and far less people.
The Langshe Empire supported whichever imperial family member proved they were strongest. After decades in power, the late Empress had whittled down the imperial family members. Those who had survived the turbulent fight of the crown were either powerless to begin with or too young to participate.
Regardless, other princesses were married off. Other princes had any factions that could’ve supported them broken up, rendering them idle lay abouts relocated far from the seat of power. Tarkan slipped through the cracks by pretending he had no interest and refusing to meet with influential nobles.
He’d stayed at a villa in the fertile valley below the Summer Palace and never got involved in politics. It didn’t seem that anyone expected him to usurp the throne until the Empress’ health began to fail. Courtiers were drawn to him because he was older and promised to overturn some of the late Empress’ changes.
The late Empress’ heir apparent would uphold the changes she made and this likely didn’t sit well with older courtiers and ministers. They may have also turned to Tarkan because Emperor Zhan had always been seen as a studious, sheltered Crown Prince who was raised in peacetime, and therefore not forged in competition to hone his abilities.
Tarkan showed sudden aggression and a willingness to fight. They perceived Emperor Zhan as too passive, simply waiting for the crown to fall into his hands.
However, a different side of him was witnessed when he slit his own uncle’s throat in front of the horrified courtiers. Beks tried her best not to flinch, as it was the first time she’d actually seen such an act up close. It was especially stunning as it wasn’t in the heat of battle, but in a beautiful stone tiled hall with red and gold beams and pillars, elegant tapestries, and gilded decorations.
Tarkan’s body remained in the tied blanket he’d been carried out in, his eyes open and mouth slightly ajar as blood pooled around his head and shoulders, clashing against the pale tiles.
“This is the punishment for traitors of the Langshe Empire,” the Emperor said in a cold, almost emotionless voice, as if he were reading from a script. His eyes had narrowed. “He was not the only one.”
The court had erupted in a mixture of reassurances of support for him, reports on who supported Tarkan, and pleas for mercy.
At least a dozen of those old men and women had been escorted to the palace prison.
The imperial guards, upon realizing that Tarkan was overthrown, shifted their loyalty to Emperor Zhan. It was fascinating for Beks to watch.
It was as if a button had been pressed and the entire guard reset their loyalties. They had bowed to Emperor Zhan, swore their loyalty to him so long as he was on the throne, and followed his orders without question.
Admittedly, Beks wasn’t sure she trusted them after they switched sides so quickly.
“Langshe follows power.” She remembered Uncle Timur told her. It was different from Kadmus.
Moving around the Summer Palace now was exactly the opposite of how she had moved around less than a day earlier. She wasn’t sneaking around, hiding in the shadows, and trying to avoid the sight of the guards. She walked down the halls and corridors unrestricted.
Gerard was still sent to escort her, though Emperor Zhan assigned two guards to guide her.
“This is the tower that will give you the best view of the steppes, Your Highness.” It was still strange that the guards who would’ve killed her on command hours ago were speaking to her like generous tour guides. “There are many steps. Shall we call for female guards to carry you?”
“No.” Beks answered in a firm voice. “I can climb up myself.”
They led her up a square tower at a corner of the outer courtyard. The top was not open, but covered with two thick columns on each quarter holding up a tiled roof. The gap facing west looked directly past the side of the mountain and on to the sprawling steppes below.
The guards who were stationed at the tower bowed and stepped to the side to allow her to get closer to the west side. Beks glanced at them and pursed her lips. It seemed the entire palace knew that there was a new Emperor and who was with him.
“Your Highness. Please.” A guard lowered his head and offered her a spyglass with both hands. He waited for her to take it and even then, he didn’t meet her gaze. He stepped back without a word.
She glanced at Gerard, who also looked a bit taken aback at the amount of respect they were giving. It wasn’t that guards didn’t respect royal family members in Kadmus, but they would not go out of their way to minimize their existence. It was another reminder that Langshe valued power, even to the point where she, as the Emperor’s cousin-in-law, was treated as if she were a blood relation.
Beks took a deep breath and gave the guard a nod before lifting the spyglass to her eyes. She adjusted it and squinted.
The Red Iron Cavalry had advanced, as expected. They weren’t just a grouping in the horizon. She could make out the banners and the outlines of the tents in the distance clearly. The opposing army was nestled at the foot of the mountain, but she could still see the front line jutting out into the steppes.
“Has General Leung’s army advanced since this morning?” she asked without lowering the spyglass.
“No, Your Highness.”
Beks nodded once.
“They saw the pillar of fire over the area where the palace is located.” A familiar voice spoke up behind her. “A vanguard had rushed up the mountain, but by now they must’ve been intercepted at a gate and informed that Geel has returned.”
Shuffling was heard behind her and Beks glanced over her shoulder. Laz and Lucian reached the top of the watch tower, still wearing their guard disguises, though their heads and faces were uncovered. Their hair had been pulled back and tied up with silver hair crowns. The Emperor must’ve given it to them earlier.
Lucian glanced towards the guards and gave them a small nod. They lowered their heads and filed down the stairs to the lower level without a word. Gerard glanced from the twins to her and then casually walked to the stairs, as well.
When his head disappeared into the lower level below them, Beks raised a brow. “If you’re here, who is protecting Geel?”
“Your brother returned with some more of the Vice-Commander’s Left Guards from his unit,” Laz told her. “Lord Deo has returned to camp and will bring more guards with the rokhs each time.”
“The issue with the army below has yet to be completely settled, so we don’t want to force the Red Iron Cavalry up until General Leung’s official surrender and handover,” Lucian added. “When it’s clear, the Red Iron Cavalry will provide handpicked units to be Geel’s personal guard for the time being. There were already about two dozen assigned to the task before you returned.”
“This includes several of the Vice-Commander’s Left Guards, so rest assured. Geel will be well protected during the transition period.” Laz put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them.
Beks took a deep breath. “How soon can the Red Iron Cavalry move forward?”
Lucian stood beside her and chuckled. “You want to go home so soon? I thought we had a few more months to prepare.”
“Transition periods can be difficult. I don’t want to leave too soon or stay too long.”
“That’s a valid concern.”
Laz slipped his hands from her shoulders and down one arm to hold her hand. “Official word has been sent to the military camp below by falcon. General Leung should’ve already received it and will arrive by tomorrow if he doesn’t lag. Once the surrender is official, the army will be split into their original companies and be sent back to their posts.”
Beks furrowed her brows. “They won’t be punished?”
“Usually, only officers are punished. Everyone else is just following orders. Most of them are villagers recruited to serve their liege,” Laz replied as he looked out towards the steppes. The sun was starting to set in the distant horizon. “Punishing every individual would decimate Langshe’s armies. However, if they stood out, they could be forced out of the army. If they were found to have inflicted a lot of damage to our side, then they won’t leave the steppes alive.”
It was a cruel fate, but the Emperor had to mitigate threats and show his strength somehow. The Tuvanak Clan and their army had met a similar fate. Uncle Timur had to rebuild it from scratch.
“Is Geel going to keep all the imperial guards?” Beks asked. “I’m going to be honest; I don’t think he can trust all of them.” She knew that even if Tarkan’s ascent to the throne was questionable, it wasn’t as if guards had gone out to search for the lost crown prince.
“Geel is merciful. The outer guard will continue with their duties, but the inner guard closest to Tarkan will be removed from their positions. He will not kill them, but will strip them of their positions, their pay, and assign them to hard labor to support the empire’s infrastructure. The inner guard will need to be rebuilt,” Lucian answered.
She was more comfortable knowing that those who were close to Tarkan, even though he was dead, wouldn’t linger around the Emperor.
Laz chuckled. “You missed the dramatic scene when the courtiers were dismissed and the inner guard gathered. Almost half of them prostrated before Geel and requested their beheading to show their loyalty. The other half was ready to cut their tendons.”
Beks drew her head back and frowned. “That’s far too extreme.”
“Those particular guards are considered the best in the empire. They were hand selected and trained to protect whoever sat on the throne, as well as protect the heir during the transition, which they failed,” Lucian told her. “Geel’s inner guard who escorted him are likely all dead trying to protect him, as they had been with him when the assassination attempt happened. The rest of the inner guard were present in the Summer Palace and should’ve waited for Geel. Instead, they followed Tarkan.”
“That isn’t to say they were all bad,” Laz said. “A good handful deflected. Geel knew every single inner guard and he noticed many were missing, including his late mother’s personal inner guard. Unfortunately, we don’t know where they went.”
“Perhaps they are waiting for Geel to return,” Beks replied.
“Or they went to try to find him,” Lucian said. He frowned a bit. “There is also a chance that they were targeted for deflecting, which I hope isn’t the case.”
“Geel also has some personal inner guard scattered outside of the Equinox Palace. He didn’t travel with all of them and was given instructions to go into hiding should Tarkan take over. Geel has sent notice to summon them back. He should have enough once they return, but is offering to accept some of the Red Iron Cavalry members who acted as his guard to join him,” Laz told her.
Beks nodded. “That’s a bit of a promotion.”
“Yes, but it would mean uprooting their families, as well as remove them from the Red Iron Cavalry all together.”
Beks pursed her lips and stared out towards the armies. “The Red Iron Cavalry will follow us to Kadmus, but then what? Have they decided on where to go afterwards? Are they not still citizens of Langshe?”
“Yes, but they are a mercenary force at this point,” Laz said. “A mercenary force that answers to us.”
“But they waited so long for us,” Lucian told her. “We will discuss with the officers of the Red Iron Cavalry, what they wish for after we retake Kadmus. Laz and I have decided to respect their decision.”
Laz let out a heavy breath. “Though it was voluntary, they were still trapped in the Forbidden Valley for years. Their children have never left. Elders may wish to return to their places of birth. This is the least we can do for their loyalty to our family.”
Beks nodded her head. “I agree. If any wish to follow you to my territory, I will welcome them.”
Lucian’s face softened. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face against her hair and placing soft, long kisses on her cheeks. “You’ve been up since yesterday, Beks. Now that Geel has retaken the throne and we have some time to breathe, you should rest.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You are tired,” Laz said with a small chuckle.
Beks closed her eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “I am very tired.” She was sure it was more than the events of the night before that drained her so. It was a culmination of everything thus far and she had been on guard for so long. It was exhausting.
His warm, calloused hands cupped her face and tilted her head to look up at his. Laz lowered his head and kissed her lips, lingering there for just a moment before he drew his head back. His intent gaze remained on her. “Rest now, while you can. It won’t take long for Geel to settle what needs to be settled. He said we should be ready to leave for Kadmus in a month.”
“By now, news that Laz and I were leading an army for our cousin must’ve reached Luther and his father. There is no use in hiding,” Lucian told her. “They should realize what we’re planning on doing next.”
Beks narrowed her eyes. “Good.”
“Good?” Laz raised a brow. “Isn’t this too soon? Are we prepared for conquest?”
They knew that Beks had been putting in orders, arranging for meeting points, supplies, and moving people, but her initial estimate to begin the campaign was months away. If they acted too soon, yes, it would limit the time Luther and his side had to prepare, but at the same time, it would also lessen the time they had to prepare.
Beks had kept as much track of their resources and their movements as she could. Deo had informed her on the bulk of their preparation. With the contacts of her father and the network of her mother, everything was moving faster and more efficiently than she thought.
“We only have to be more prepared than they are, and at the moment, even with what we’ve gathered so far, I believe we are in a better position to attack than they are to defend,” Beks told them. “His financial resources are cut. Funding was reduced everywhere. Whatever military force he has won’t be able to stand against the combination of our forces and the Red Iron Cavalry, even if only a portion of them ride out with us.
“He can’t depend on the Temple right now, even with the Oracle, as they are still reeling from the paladin compound collapse, the fires in the Temple Complex, and the destruction caused by the flood. Any help Luther would get from them would be minimal. In addition, people are unsatisfied with his rule, and there are bound to be parties that will split from him when Brother Laurence reappears. Who is the rightful ruler, people will know.”
Her assessment was that by the time they reached the border of Kadmus, as long as the war for the throne was not dragged out, they could retake it.
The twins looked at each other and then nodded.
“In that case,” Laz said. “We will go forward ahead of schedule. I’m sure Luther will be surprised.”
╔═════════════════ ∘◦ ♔ ◦∘ ═════════════════╗
Luther froze in his seat. The entire dining hall went silent as the unexpected news was announced at the Fourth Consort’s prodding to the dinner table filled with allied nobles and merchants. Chamberlain Wilton stood to the right of Luther, where he sat at the head of the table.
The Chamberlain had brought urgent news to Luther. Custom would typically dictate that Luther excuse himself from the table to take the news in the privacy of his study before returning to dinner. From the somewhat irritated glint in Chamberlain Wilton’s eyes, this is what he expected, as one never knew what the urgent news would be.
Iris on Luther’s left and the Third Consort on Luther’s right heard Chamberlain Wilton’s quiet voice whisper to Luther that it was urgent news about the Langshe Empire.
Iris had sat up straight in her cushioned seat and tried to keep her smile from being too confident. In her previous life, the Crown Prince of Langshe struggled to regain his throne with the help of his cousins, but this time, his cousins weren’t there. She heard that he got hold of an old army, but she doubted they’d stand a chance against Langshe’s existing military forces.
In the past, they succeeded because the Second and Third Princes led armies on the Crown Prince’s behalf. After all, the Second Prince was a Battalion Commander. Without them, the Crown Prince was bound to fail. She’d also told the Temple to send paladins to hinder him, just in case.
Tarkan, their ally, would remain on the throne.
She was confident of this, and so was the Third Consort. Upon hearing that the news had to do with the Langshe empire, the Third Consort had encouraged Chamberlain Wilton to announce it to the table.
After all, many of those present were hoping that the late Empress’ half-brother would stay on the throne as a political and economic ally. Iris also encouraged the news, only to have it slap her in the face.
“Crown Prince Zhanzhin has broken through the Langshe army and taken control of the Summer Palace to retake his throne.” Chamberlain Wilton announced to the entire table, throwing them into silence.
“What...what about Emperor Tarkan?” someone a few seats away asked.
Chamberlain Wilton remained standing upright just to the side and behind Luther. “Tarkan has been killed and his supporters in court are reported to have been imprisoned.”
Murmurs and gasps filled the table, replacing the boisterous, gleeful chattering from moments earlier. Iris looked towards Luther, whose face had drained of color.
“How can this be?” The Third Consort frowned and eyed Chamberlain Wilton as if it were his fault that Tarkan was dead. “The last we heard, the combined force of Langshe’s military had put a stop to the advancement of Zhanzhin’s army. They outnumbered them a rumored three to one! How could Tarkan have fallen and the Crown Prince return?”
Several voices echoed in agreement. The battle for succession in Langshe was a hot topic amongst Kadmus’ nobles.
Chamberlain Wilton’s dull eyes looked at the Third Consort, as if asking if he really wanted to know. “Crown Prince - no, Emperor Zhan’s army wasn’t just a mercenary army, as reported before. Their banners were identified, Your Highness. The Red Iron Cavalry is backing Emperor Zhan.”
Iris didn’t recall such a name from her previous life. She never studied much about Langshe while at the Temple, as the Temple had little influence there. However, from the shrinking eyes and pale expression of the Third Consort, he knew what the Red Iron Cavalry was.
“That’s impossible,” he said with a slight tremble in his voice. “They were disbanded over twenty years ago! They must be fake!”
“Father, what is the Red Iron Cavalry?” Luther asked. His father didn’t answer him. The Third Consort’s eyes were red as he shook with fury in his seat. Luther looked to Chamberlain Wilton.
The old man took a deep breath. “The Red Iron Cavalry was the name of the army led by the Second Consort before he married the late Queen.”
Iris felt a shock cut through her body.
In her past life, the twin princes were leading an army. It wasn’t the Wild Dogs, or at least not only them. They didn’t have the numbers. The twins had gone to aid their cousin by offering their leadership and strategic abilities, but the army they led was rumored to be very loyal. She’d assumed it was because the Crown Prince had hired a mercenary group, therefore, they were bound to follow the orders of the Crown Prince’s relatives.
“The Red Iron Cavalry was disbanded over decades ago!” The Third Consort pounded his fist on the wooden tabletop. “They would follow no one else but Timur! It was he who had them disbanded! This must be a group taking the name for themselves.”
He seemed convinced.
Chamberlain Wilton took another deep breath, as if preparing himself. “Your Highness, we do not know if this Red Iron Cavalry is the original or not, but they have successfully reached the heart of Langshe and secured the throne for Emperor Zhan.”
Iris, as well as everyone else at the table, frowned at this.
“Well, even if Emperor Zhan has retaken his throne, there is nothing we in Kadmus can do,” Iris said. “We will reach out to Emperor Zhan to show our support.” If the Emperor found out they had sided with Tarkan, they could be retaliated against economically.
The entire table seemed to nod in agreement.
“We will send him a gift to show our sincerity,” Luther said. “He will be busy during the transition period. He will not bother with us immediately, so we should congratulate him. He fostered strong ties to Kadmus as the Crown Prince; let us remind him to continue doing so.”
Iris nodded, satisfied at his words. Luther was becoming more fitting of his role with each passing day. She reached over and grasped his hand, giving him a warm, pleased look. Luther met her gaze and returned it with a squeeze of her hand and a brilliant smile of his own.
“There is one more thing, Your Majesty,” Chamberlain Wilton said. “Regarding the Red Iron Cavalry.”
“Speak.”
“We have just received reports that Emperor Zhan is supported by his two cousins, who led the Red Iron Cavalry forward.”
Iris felt her chest begin to tighten. A ball of dread twisted in her stomach as Luther and the Third Consort looked towards the Chamberlain, also having heard the keyword: two.
“Two cousins?” The Third Consort narrowed his eyes with burning hatred.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Chamberlain Wilton replied in a steady voice. “The Red Iron Cavalry is led by Prince Lazarus and Prince Lucian.”
Luther took in a sharp breath and Iris’ eyes widened. There was an unspoken sentence in what Chamberlain Wilton said, and she was certain she wasn’t the only one who heard it.
The Red Iron Cavalry is led by Prince Lazarus and Prince Lucian.
...And they will come here next.