FictiaFictitious 52 #13

Part 2




He sits alone in the dark cell, silent, contemplative. As much as T may say otherwise, he still cared. The fact that Drel, under suspicion of regicide, has made it to holding with only some minor bruises and a broken pair of glasses is testament to that. Preferential treatment. Were he anyone else, or if T truly no longer cared about his well being, he'd have been lucky to have been unconscious by the time he'd made it there.

T hadn't responded well to the first words of explanation. In fact, by the end of the first sentence, he had stood, disgusted, and declared aloud the City Guard's intent to arrest Drel, listing his crimes. This was apparently the Guard's cue, as no sooner had the words left the Crown General's mouth than the Guard Commander and 5 of his men stormed into the tavern and grabbed Drel, pinning him to the ground.

He has no way of telling time, but he estimates four or five hours to have passed since he was brought in when the door to the holding room opens and T enters, shutting the door behind him. He walks down the single corridor room, all the way to the back, stopping in front of Drel's cell. His eye is hard and cold. A close friend, and at one point Drell and he had been close friends, could also see in it several more subtle emotions.

“Finally ready to hear the whole story?”

“Before you start,” T says, “I feel you should know that nothing you say now will change anything. I've seen to it that everything is in motion to see you tried and, when found guilty, executed.”

“If found guilty,” corrects Drel.

“When,” T spits back. “By your own words you are guilty.”

“I had... no, I won't get ahead of myself again. Are you here to lecture me or hear the truth, T?”

“General. And I am here to do neither. However I am willing to entertain your lies should you see fit to continue spewing them.”

“Since when am I a liar?”

“It seems an easy transition when you've already become a murderer and a traitor.”

Drel sighs and looks into his former friend's eyes. A life time of weight behind them. Almost as much as contained in Drel's own.

“I am a lot of things, T. A lot of terrible things. A traitor is not one of them.”

“Tell your story so I can get back to doing my job.”

---

Drel listens to T recount the story of their adventures in the overblown way that he is so talented at while watching the people who had gathered to honor he and his friends. Well, were he to be honest with himself, they were assembled because Breignon, the King, had called for there to be a celebration in honor of the day the three of them had arrived. Given the ways in which they'd served the kingdom since their arrival he'd thought it appropriate. Most of the nobles in the audience were likely only there to curry favor with the crown.

Princess Evelyn sat to the left of the king, chatting away with Ikura over something. The two of them were close, as could be expected. Being the Captain of the Protectorate, Ikura's primary responsibility is to look after the future of the crown. Being the crown princess, Evelyn is said future. It makes sense, then, that with Ikura having held her position for eight years the two of them are so close.   Evelyn had known her for most of her life, and had been guarded by her personally since age twelve. Neither of them had much interest in T's long tale. The princess had heard it before, and Ikura had lived it.

In between Drel and the Princess sits the king. Breignon Wultet III himself. He is a brick wall of a man, a physique sculpted by years at war. Decades ago he had held a rank just below the one Drel now occupies. The throne was never intended to go to him, he was the youngest of three brothers, and this allowed him to pursue his own interests. He became an officer in the crown army before distinguishing himself time and again in battle, quickly rising to the rank of general.

It was for the same reason he never attained the rank of Crown General that he became king. The king appoints the Crown General, and the king cannot appoint anyone if he is dead. An illness befell the castle, taking with it Breignon's father and siblings. Breignon, himself was on the battlefield at the time, though many say that, with his constitution, he'd have shrugged the disease off with a laugh anyway. The general became king upon his return.

The king now sits, leaning to his right. He holds his jawline in between his thumb and forefinger, watching, but not really listening.

The night proceeds with much laughing, eating, drinking, conversation. All the things one expects during a celebration. Half way through the night, however, the king leans over to Drel and says “We must speak, General, after the party.”

“Sir,” Drel answers with a quick nod.

The night runs its course, everyone eventually disperses, T to the city walls, Ikura to the Princess' wing, and Drel follows the king and his guard to his quarters.

Breignon's room is massive, as is befitting a king, and decorated in the trappings of both phases of his life. War trophies sitting upon decadence. Above the fire place hangs three tapestries. One bearing the nation's symbol, one bearing the Wultet coat of arms, and finally one with both. Below them, on the mantle, rests the king's ceremonial sword and shield. Replicas of his own weapons of choice during his service in the Crown Army. The shield bears his own purple etched with gold. The pommel and guard of the sword are made of bronze, the blade has been gold plated, and the grip is silver. The colors representing the crown, the nation's towns and cities, and the nations lands respectively. All of which it is the king's duty to oversee and protect.

The king stands in front of the fireplace, solemnly looking down at the flames. He beckons Drel over.

“Leave us to speak in private,” he says to his guard. They bow their assent and exit.

“As Crown General you are aware, of course, that Kirkden and Nerwol have formed an alliance.”

“I am, sir. Working together they could be a threat, however I don't think they would make that kind of move.”

“And, with the knowledge you have, you would be right. However, what you do not know is that a message has been delivered to me, personally, proposing that Sendal join as well. Do you know what this likely means,” his tone is dark.

“This is Kirkden's doing, then. Nerwol would never come to us with that kind of proposal.”

“Most likely.”

“We are to serve as their defenses!”

The king nods. “They have wanted to invade Maripose for decades. We, however, have been in their way in the most literal of senses. With Nerwol on their side, they intend to force us into an alliance and then launch this 'alliance' into a war with Maripose. To even reach Kirkden or Nerwol they'd have to march through Sendal.”

“Which is why Nerwol is willing to ally with us. Because by the end of this war we would be in shambles.”

There is silence for a time before the king speaks again.

“I have given the matter some thought, and our position is not tenable.  We need a bargaining chip. And that is why I have called you up here.”

The king lifts his eyes from the fire and turns to Drel. Obviously it pains him to say what he intends to.

“The cursed weapon, Drel. We are going to seek it out. I wanted to give you the option of leading the expedition or choosing not to, without putting you on the spot in front of your troops.”

Drel is taken aback, but not for long. “You cannot do this, sir.”

“I do not have a wealth of alternatives, Drel.”

“That thing will bring destruction down upon this kingdom just as it does everywhere else. Just as it did to my previous home.”

“So you will not lead the expedition, then. I understand.”

“You are not listening to me, sir. You can. Not. Do this. You will destroy everything!”

“I have no intention of keeping the thing an instant longer than is necessary.”

“You won't have a choice! Have you been completely oblivious to our accounts over these many years? Stop being a fool,” Drel shouts.

The king's face is stern, though not angry. He understands Drel's fury, but the discussion is now over. He turns from Drel and takes a few steps away.

“I have made my decision, general. You may leave now, before you say something you and I both will regret.”

“Yes... sir. I would like to ask one last question, if I may.”

“Ask.”

“Who else knows?”

“You are the first I have told. As I said, I did not want for you to lose face by refuse. Wh...”

He stops when the gold plated blade protrude from his chest. His eyes widen before they start to dim and he falls forward.

“Because if someone else knew, there would have been no point in doing this.”

“Traitor...”

“My first duty is to the kingdom, I am sorry, but I can't let you go through with your plan.”

The king does not last much longer, lying there on the floor. Drel exits the room descending a flight of stairs to find the king's guard waiting.

“Have you completed your meeting with the king, sir?”

“I have.”

They give him a quick nod of respect before ascending the stairs to the king's chambers. By the time they discover Breignon's corpse, Drel is headed for the gates.

He considers explaining himself to Ikura and T, but realizes he can't. They'd been together for so long that they would, of course, be under suspicion once his crime was discovered. If they knew his reasons they would have to hide them, and it would be all that much harder to not seem guilty. No, he would have to bear this burden on his own.

Things, unfortunately, would not be that easy. He discovers T waiting at the gates, blissfully ignorant of the crimes his friend has just committed. If he escapes, it will not look good for T. They will think him an accomplice for sure. When the fire in the tower is lit, Drel has an epiphany. His friend will be less suspicious if he is made a victim...

---

As Drel completes his story, he sees T, for only a moment, touching his armor under which the scar he'd been left lies.

“I had to do it for the good of the  kingdom.”

“For the good of the kingdom,” T spits. “Even if I were to take you at your word, by your own admission your actions deliberately left us on the verge of war lead by an inexperienced queen!”

“We won that war and came out of it with a new ally in Maripose. All without pursuing that weapon and destroying our home”

“No, we won that war. You fled to who knows where!”

“I was here for most of the war years, doing what I could.”

T's eyes narrow. There's venom in his voice when he asks “How have you been hiding here for so long?”

“The same way you managed to find him,” a voice comes from behind T. He turns, and Drel tries to look around him.

There in the door way stands the queen's adviser. Ikura.

“Me.”

End Part 2.