Chapter 30: Gathering Pawns
11.2k 39 313
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Chapter 30: Gathering Pawns

 

Lily with the help of the female servants got dressed in a fine red dress. Her plain underwear changed to a black corset and black lace underwear. She put on black garter belt and pulled up black stockings. As Lily looked herself in the mirror before the dress covered herself up she saw how the black color of her undergarments contrasted with her beautiful porcelain-like skin. She knew what he wanted and she would give it to him. But first she needed to dig for some information…

When Lily reentered the room she found the prince lounging lazily at the table sipping wine. As the eyes of the prince locked on her, Lily saw desire flash in his eyes. 

“Have a seat my dear.” the Prince said as he gestured to the chair.

Lily walked over and gave the Prince an awkward curtsy, to which the Prince raised an amused eyebrow.

“What is your name my lady?” the Prince asked.

“My name is Lilian, Lilian Goodfield. My friends call me Lily, it’s a common name.” Lily replied in mock nervousness.

“How did you come to be in service of this castle?” the Prince asked.

“Well… I was looking for work, you see. Many of the commoners are out of work due to the lock down. Many are content to grumble and moan but I felt it would be better to find work rather than run my mouth.” Lily replied.

“Oh? What are the lower classes saying?” the Prince asked curiously.

“I would not dare repeat their words, your highness.” Lily replied with a small bow.

“Humor me my lady. I am not so petty as to punish you for the words of others.” the Prince said with a small laugh.

“Well… it’s the usual your highness. Many say the lockdown is unjust and the nobility does not care for the common people. Talks like this always flare up when times are difficult. They even complain that the nobility has failed them when their own harvests fail. It’s quite nonsensical in my personal opinion.” Lily replied.

“Really? Why do you say it’s nonsensical?” the Prince asked.

“Well we don’t know much, your highness. I can barely read, what do I know about ruling a state? Is it really our place to comment on such things. If anything such talk only incites unrest.” Lily replied.

“You do not give yourself enough credit my lady. The fact that you recognise your lack of knowledge is already far above most commoners.” the Prince said.

“Yes, we commoners do not know much, we need the nobility to guide us. If we were left alone, we would starve to death with one bad harvest.” Lily said.

“Indeed, my father implemented a policy that held our grains in a reserve. Some of the grain rot in the process before it can be reallocated but at least in the event of impending famine we are able to distribute some food to the masses.” the Prince replied.

“Yes, the king is wise. We only live the lives we do because of his stewardship.” Lily replied.

The idea for this conversation is simple. Stroke his ego and make him confident. Slowly make him sure of himself so that he can one day be encouraged to do something really stupid…

“Well it is heartening to know at least some of the common folk have some good sense.” the Prince replied with a nod.

“Most just complain without providing any solutions. Anyone can point out that the granary is empty, but who can fill it?” Lily said.

“Indeed, then what do you do with those who would spread dissent? I can tell you that there are alot of them in recent days. They harp about how the lock down is ruining their livelihoods. All my father wants to do is to stop them from getting killed.

Do you know that we have lost almost a dozen adventurer teams? This beast is powerful, I suspect the only reason the villages have been left alone is because of the lockdown. If there is no prey along the roads then the bandits will leave.” the Prince replied airily, sounding as if he was saying something sophisticated.

Even someone like Lily knew that line of logic was absurd. Bandits do not leave because the roads are closed. When they get hungry and desperate they start targeting villages. The reason why the bandit attacks have ceased was because there were no more bandits. The Princess’s friend saw to that at her request. Princess Cecilia said that a bunch of rogue elements would complicate things, so she asked her friend to kill them all… and kill them all he did…

“Of course, that was why. I was wondering why the roads were safer. I heard rumors about it but I never figured out why.” Lily replied. 

In truth if there was to be an explanation drawn from the information available. The more likely explanations would be either that the bandits were all eaten by the beast, the bandits have fled because of the beast or that increased patrols on the roads and the forays into the forests have kept the bandits in hiding. Not whatever nonsense the prince was spouting.

“As for what to do with dissidents… in truth your highness. I feel dissenters are dangerous, many would respond to a famine by burning the granary. It is always concerning when some of the common folk try to voice dangerous opinions. At worst there’s a riot or some of them become bandits.” Lily said.

“Yes, that happens more often than you think. The bandits all came from somewhere, they didn't exactly pop out of the ground like mushrooms. So what do you think should be done to dissenters?” the Prince replied.

“I feel common folk such as myself should not question the nobility. Those who threaten the peace should be at least imprisoned to stop them from talking.” Lily said. 

Now this is the real point of this conversation, the idea was simple. Feed and fuel the Prince’s worst compulsions and tendencies. 

Slowly bit by bit, after goading one stupid decision after the other. Once the people are in uproar, then there is the final card that will be played. After that the people will beg Cecilia to sit on the throne…

 

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.♚.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

 

Sir Rodrick Dane looked ahead and saw the ruins of Hearthstead. He is a knight captain of Averlon, as the third son of house Dane he decided to join the knights when he came of age. It was considered a good choice for someone of his station, the third in line rarely had any claim to the family title. So it was much better than some of the other noble children’s choices. Some womanize and drink themselves to an early grave. Others leave to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Joining the knights, adventurer guild or the mage guild was considered the more desirable options.

In truth Sir Dane was not interested in the title, he always admired the knights and heroes of old. Men and women who always took the righteous path, no matter how trying or difficult. He admired them, he aspired to be them, so when he got word there was something suspicious about the attack on Hearthstead he immediately sought out the source of the rumor.

It turns out the rumor came from a mage, a mage not from the local mage guild in fact. It was a traveling mage that visited Hearthstead. The initial rumors of her being of the local mage guild was proven false.  Interestingly the rumors also began with the mage herself. She told the scavengers that she encountered at the ruin that she was from the local guild because she was afraid for her own safety. Afterall the mages in the guild are registered, murdering and attacking a registered mage is punishable by death. A smart move all things considered, then again mages are known for being intelligent. You need a good head on your shoulders to grasp the esotericism of magic.

Now he was on the way to Hearthstead accompanied by the mage, a gold rank adventurer team and his dear friend Sir Jaymond Holt. What the mage told him was… suspicious and concerning. To bury the bodies of only the women implied that they wanted the women to seem like they were taken by bandits. Someone wanted everyone to believe it was bandits that burned that village…

“My Lady, do you feel bandits could have done what you observed?” Sir Dane asked curiously as he looked at the mage.

“It is possible… although unlikely. In my travels I have encountered dark mages that have joined roving bands of bandits. Although most of them usually covet the darker branches of magic like Necromancy, Hemomancy and Daemonology. They rarely seek to learn the magic of the light such as the Druidic School.” the mage replied. 

As she turned Sir Dane saw her blonde hair and green eyes. She was very beautiful, it was a shame that she wore that hood to obscure her visage. Then again the roads are dangerous, if one such as her were spotted on the open roads the bandits would start to get ideas.

“Yeah I heard from a friend in Tralis, there was once a Hemomancer who did some dark shit with blood magic. He was trying to turn himself into a vampire so that he could live forever.” the Rogue from the adventurer team said.

“That guy must be messed up, the Tralis mage guild is already more tolerant towards the darker schools of magic. If that guy is too dark even for them then he must be bat shit crazy.” the warrior said.

“Tralis is considered tame with regards to Dark Magic, I would describe Averlon as sterile. The Mages of the Shattered Isles, also known as the Necrostasi, study necromancy freely there. There is a reason that no one has managed to conquer them. It's hard to fight an enemy that can raise the dead.” the mage replied.

“So what makes you think the magic was done by someone other than bandits? It's not that hard to regrow some grass, you can do that with a scroll.” the mage from the adventurer asked.

“Because the magic was precise, it was giving off too little ether for it’s age. If the site was a year old then nothing would be out of the ordinary but this site is weeks old. If some common mage just casted a regrowth spell haphazardly the ether should glowing brightly. Yet when I stumbled across the site it was as if whoever casted it wanted to hide the spell from magical detection.” the mage replied.

“Then how did you find it?” the mage from the adventurer party asked.

“I will explain when we arrive.” the mage said cryptically.

The group rode on in silence as they approached the ruins. As Sir Dane looked at the village he felt a pang of sympathy in his chest. These families... all dead… what foul creature could do something like this? Such a group or person must be condemned no matter who they are. Noble or commoner, rich or poor, holy man or scoundrel, no one is exempt from what is right and true. 

“When I see things like this, I am grateful that banditry is punished by death.” His friend Sir Holt muttered as the group entered the village square. 

“Provided this was done by bandits. I smell Peelers Pit in this…” the Rogue replied.

“But why would the criminals there even do this? There’s nothing worth stealing here.” the warrior replied as the group followed the mage. 

“Because people talk…” the mage said as she looked down at a spot of earth that looked to be recently dug up.

The mage from the adventurer guild raised a hand to her face and intoned [Ether Detection]. The mage’s eyes glowed as he looked at the mound of earth. He walked over next to the dirt mound and examined it.

“You’re right… this spell is subtle… How did you detect it? By luck?” the mage asked curiously.

“No, skill.” the mage said as her hand glowed and the dirt rose up. With a calm wave of her hand the dirt moved off the side revealing the rotting bodies.

“You can cast silent magic?” the Sir Dane asked in surprise. 

Silent magic was a very difficult skill that was only in the skill set of the most powerful mages. The ability to cast spells without speaking meant the enemy did not know what was going to come flying at their face. Furthermore, the best mages often made custom spells that only they knew, without an incantation it made the unique spell even more dangerous.

“Yes I can, I am afterall the most powerful mage the Mage Academy of Averlon has ever seen.” the mage said.

“I thought you were a travelling mage?” the Rogue asked as he narrowed his eyes.

“I lied…” the mage said as she shed her hood revealing a head of flaming red hair. She turned to reveal ruby red eyes and a face that Sir Dane thought he would never see again.

“Princess Cecilia?” Sir Dane stammered as he took a step back. 

“I thought you died…” Sir Holt said wide eyed.

“Not dead my good knight. Imprisoned.” Cecilia replied.

“Imprisoned? By who? Has the king recently rescued you?” Sir Dane asked as he took a step forward. 

Sir Dane could scarcely believe it, there was no mistaking it. This was Princess Cecilia, no one could mimic her appearance that well. He still remembers the conversations he had with her occasionally. He remembers how the knights mourned her, the brilliant and beautiful Princess Cecilia taken from them by disease. Some within the church even said that was the nature of greatness, how when a flame burns so bright that it burns itself out.

“My father did not rescue me, he was the one who imprisoned me.” Cecilia spat.

“The king imprisoned you? Why? Where were you imprisoned?” Sir Dane asked, flabbergasted.

“He was afraid of me, afraid of my power. You know his policies? The reforms he did before my supposed death?” Cecilia asked.

“Yes of course, the grain reserves, the reformation of the taxation bureau to facilitate trade, the incentives for village creation. All of them were a great boon to Averlon…” Sir Dane replied.

“My father did not take those ideas from his own mind, he took them from mine. How many reforms has he made these past four years?” Cecilia asked.

“None… but we thought it was because reforms were not necessary.” Sir Holt replied.

“Rule is like any other thing my good knight, it can always be improved. My father imprisoned me because he feared that I would take his throne. He was always afraid of me, of my magical talent, of my intelligence. I am everything he wants to be, everything he will never be. 

So he locked me away, claiming I died. He locked me in this tower surrounded by a magical barrier. I have no idea how much he spent on Ether to power it but I expect it to be a significant sum.” Cecilia explained.

“The funding… we have been struggling with funding for years…” Sir Holt said as he turned to look at Sir Dane. In truth both of them had wondered why the crown seemed so short on coin when Averlon was clearly making a profit from all the trade caravans that moved through the city. 

“Funding? What has been ailing you good knights?” Cecilia asked as she furrowed her brows.

“Our equipment, your highness, we do not have enough smiths to maintain them. Our border fortifications are also deteriorating with each passing winter. Each winter weakens our walls and watchtowers. Our labourers are overworked, cutting corners.” Sir Dane said with a shake of his head.

“That is… concerning…” Cecilia said as she looked away for a moment as if lost in thought.

“What troubles you, your highness?” Sir Dane asked as he furrowed his brow.

“I will explain in greater detail later. Averlon is in danger my friends. I trust all of you are curious how I escaped, who sprung me from my cage.” Cecilia said as she turned to look at the gathered adventurers and knights. Her voice echoed out regal and with purpose. Sounding for all intents and purposes like the voice of a Queen.

“Yes Princess Cecilia.” Sir Dane said with an instinctive bow.

“He is not what you would expect, he is not like us and I am sure you will be alarmed. But I ask you to remain calm, stay your weapons for he is a friend to Averlon not a foe.” Cecilia said.

“Very well.” Sir Dane said, slightly perplexed. He looked around and saw the rest nod their heads, confusion colouring their expressions.

“Friend, would you please show yourself.” Cecilia said as she turned her head to look behind her.

Then from thin air a wall of golden feathers appeared. Everyone looked up to see that the feathers belonged to a towering beast. It’s body is covered in golden feathers, sparkling in the sun. It had no eyes or speak of, just a smooth white head and maw filled with serrated teeth. The beast reared up to its full height and spread its wings revealing massive wings filled with the same gold feathers.

“Hello, humans.” the beast said, his voice low and rumbling. 

“Good knights and adventurers I would like to introduce to you my friend. He is the beast you have been hunting and he is the one who freed me to save Averlon from itself.” Cecilia said.

“This is the beast?” the warrior of the adventurers asked in mute horror. 

“I am what you seek. I am what you sought to kill, but I do not die easily.” the beast said as it slithered next to Cecilia. For her part she laid a fond hand on the side of the beast’s body.

“Princess you are allied to this monster? It has killed almost a dozen adventurer teams!” the Rogue said as he drew his weapons.

“And what were all of you doing in my forest? You were trying to kill me.” the beast said.

“Does he not have the right to defend himself?” Cecilia asked.

“But he destroyed a merchant caravan!” Sir Holt said.

“Your wagon was not destroyed by me, human. It was destroyed by one of your kind. I stumbled across it and found your merchants dead by what you call bandits. I know your kind, you will not miss their ilk. If anything I did you a favour, there are no more bandits dirtying my home.” the beast replied.

This gave Sir Dane pause, it was true. The bandit attacks have all but disappeared barring the supposed attack of Hearthstead. The roads have never been safer. The only one’s lost were the ones sent into the forest…

“Then why did you kill the adventurers? Why not chase them away?” the Warrior countered.

“Because I know how you Humans are. You are weak squishy creatures, pretending to be wolves when you are sheep. Some of you are powerful, yes, but the strong among you are few and far between. 

If I let your fellows go they would return and speak of what they learned. The next attack will be more prepared. For the rest of you humans, you obtain victory through cunning and guile. For that you have my respect…” the beast said.

That last line was not expected, the group was slightly stunned.

“Respect?” Sir Dane asked after a pause.

“Strength is not about brutality or firepower. Strength is a means to an end, all that matters is what lives and what dies. I do not care how you do it as long as you manage to do it. It is a testament to your race, which is why I hid from you.” the beast said.

“Then why show yourself?” Sir Dane asked.

“Because of your princess, she offered me something, a place to live in peace. Without any of you pesky humans coming into my home trying to kill me. One of these days one of you just might succeed.” the Beast said.

“So what? We just let you roam the forest and eat whoever you want?” the warrior asked.

“Of course not, I offered him a simple deal.” Cecilia said as she walked towards the group.

“I will offer him food and safety, in exchange when I am Queen he will offer me his support. He is a deterrent to our enemies and with our alliance he has a vested interest in the continued prosperity of Averlon. There are many sources of food, condemned criminals, livestock. He is no dull beast, of that I am sure.” Cecilia said.

“Wait, you want to take the throne from the king?” Sir Dane asked cautiously.

“Yes and for good reason. My father was the one that locked me in that prison and there is more. Are you aware of my father’s Spymaster?” Cecilia said.

“Yes… that woman, Sarana I believe is her name. She sits by your father’s whispering into his ear.” Sir Dane said darkly. 

The knights do not approve of the spymaster as she weaved her secrets and web of spies. They feel such things are dishonourable and they detest the fact that the crown works through criminals.

“She has given me some concerning news. This attack was ordered by my father…” Cecilia said with a sigh. 

Cecilia then began to explain what has been transpiring.

Sir Dane’s eyes widened as the truth was revealed. How some adventurers from this village stumbled across the tomb that held that beast. How that beast was awakened from it’s long slumber and released into the world. How the king ordered the families of those adventurers, kidnapped and tortured to find information on the location of that tomb. How all the people in this were slaughtered as a cover for the kidnapping.

But of course all of this needed proof… then the Princess brought an orb and played an audio recording. Sir Dane recognised the voice of the king, the king spoke on how the cover up was failure and how… he would pay to have all of them silenced…

Sir Dane has served loyally for ten years and what was for in the end? If not for the Princess he would be dead, killed for seeking truth and justice. This is unforgivable…

Then for the final nail in the coffin, the Princess brought out the writ of requisition for twenty platinum coins with the King’s seal. Twenty platinum coins was the amount said in the recording… So that was it? That was what all his service was worth? Sir Dane smiled bitterly as he wondered if he should be flattered, twenty platinum coins is a king’s ransom…

“Good knights, brave adventurers. Averlon has a sickness and Spymaster Sarana also brings troubling news beyond our borders. In the north, Tralis and Baralis are on the verge of war, whoever wins will have territory that will rival this entire region. They may soon turn their gaze to the south. When that happens we will need a strong leader and we will need my friend here. The great empires of old all fielded monsters in their ranks, we may need to as well one day.” Cecilia said.

Sir Dane paused as he turned to look at Sir Holt. Sir Dane saw the indecision in his eyes for a moment but they both soon reached the same conclusion. The Princess was right, the king has committed an unspeakable crime. Having her friend as an ally would prove useful, at the very least bandits will think twice about hiding in the forest…

“What will you have us do Princess?” Sir Dane asked.

“For now keep this secret, help me arrange a meeting with your knight commander. As for you adventurers, I need a meeting with the head of the guild. We must keep this a secret, if my father catches wind of this he will tear Averlon apart to keep his throne.” Cecilia said as she looked around at the group.

“Can I count on your support? Loyal citizens of Averlon…” Cecilia said.

Sir Dane paused as he contemplated his options, his oath and his duty. He was sworn to the throne of Averlon, to be loyal to the Crown of Averlon. Yet he also swore to uphold justice, to protect and to defend the people. So what happens when the King kills the people? What is higher? His oath to the king? His oath to the people? His oath to uphold justice? Which is it?

“You know, I can never understand why you humans are so obsessed with swearing this and swearing that.” the beast said as if reading his mind.

“I do not expect something like you to understand.” Sir Dane replied with a shake of his head.

“What’s so hard to understand? Cecilia here told me all of you would be torn. In truth I think the answer is very simple. What do you value most?” the beast asked.

“I value them all, that is the issue.” Sir Dane replied.

“We both know that’s not true. Put it this way, if the king ordered you slaughter the women and children in this village. Would you do it?” the beast asked.

“No…” Sir Dane replied after some introspection.

“Then that is your answer, you value your loyalty to your king less than your oath to uphold your human justice.” the beast said.

“But what is my word worth when an oath is broken so easily?” Sir Dane retorted.

“One oath is broken regardless now. If you remain loyal you throw out your oath to uphold justice. So feel free to continue to be loyal to that false king, I will flee this land, your princess will die. 

When the next village burns, when you see the next set of bodies you need not look far for those responsible. You need only look in a mirror…” the beast said with a small rumbling chuckle.

The beast was right, Sir Dane knew it. This won’t be the last time this happens, if the king can do this once, he will do it again. Some lines must never be crossed…

Then the beast let out another small laugh as it spoke once more.

 

You can go back and pretend everything is fine

Cover your eyes

Cover your ears…

By all means, bury your head in the sand

Live your little lie

But remember, no matter how beautiful, how entrancing

A lie will always remain a lie...

313