The Banishment of the King

by A. J. Chaudhury

  “Um, can that egg produce a baby dragon?” Vivek asked. Xuhn agreed. Eggs were meant to produce ofsprings after all.

  “I don’t know,” Mortugal said, thoughtfully, “but this egg feels suspiciously light. As if there is no yolk inside it.”

  “Maybe the purple essence did it,” Xuhn offered.

  Mortugal shrugged.

  "No idea, boy.”

  ***

  The force was so great Ritika was thrown off her bed.

  Her head hit a piece of wood, and she grunted in pain.

  What a way to awake! There was a little light flowing through the corridor from the deck above, and it helped Ritika to see that her mother had also fallen to the floor. Breda, a werewolf as she was, had somehow managed to stay on her bed despite the force. As the drowsiness left Ritika, she realised Ruponi was groaning.

  “Are you two all right?” Ritika asked, clutching her own head that throbbed with a dull pain.

  “My leg!” Ruponi groaned, “Wh— what the heck happened exactly?”

  “The ship might have hit some small island,” said Breda, looking about the room with wide eyes, while Ritika helped her mother to stand up.

  “Let’s go and see,” Ritika said. Outside their room, in the corridor, countless soldiers were hurriedly moving towards the deck.

  “Wow,” Breda said sarcastically, as they made their way through the crowded corridor, “if this stupid ship sinks, it’ll be the funniest thing ever. No werewolf has drowned in the sea. I’ll be the first one.”

  “What happened?” Ritika said, when she suddenly came face to face with a terrified soldier who was hacking his way not towards the deck, but in the contrary direction.

  “It’s the beast!” the soldier said, his anxious face moist with sweat.

  “Beast?”

  Suddenly yesterday night flashed in Ritika’s mind. How could she have forgotten?

  “A great beast shall come to aid us to go faster,” Xuhn had announced yesterday night to everyone. It had been one of those rare occasions when he came out of his cabin.

  Sure enough, when they reached the deck, the great beast pulling the ship proved Xuhn’s prediction right. It was a dragon—a black one. It had thrown a thick rope around itself, one end of which was tied to the front of the ship, and was flapping its wings fast so that the ship coursed through the water at breakneck speed.

  Ritika could only recall the soldier who had dived into the sea to save Xuhn. The soldier had told of seeing a great beast underwater. Was this black dragon the same beast?

  “Where is he?” Breda asked, breaking Ritika out of her thoughts, even as all the soldiers marvelled at the beast. They were from Northang, but the possibility of them seeing a dragon before was still very rare.

  “Xuhn?” Ritika said.

  “The fake Xuhn,” Breda corrected. The three of them looked around, but Xuhn was nowhere amidst the soldiers.

  “I think he’s in his cabin,” Ruponi said. A lone guard stood outside the door of the cabin, his astonished eyes too fixed on the dragon.

  The three of them made their way to him.

  “Where is the king?” Ritika asked the burly man.

  “Inside,” the guard replied.

  “Let me see him,” Ritika said. “Doesn’t he know that the great beast has come?”

  “Well, he told me last night not to let anyone enter his cabin.”

  Ritika exchanged glances with her mother and Breda. She had this abrupt feeling that Xuhn was the black dragon. It was a crazy thought. But then, the guard should have seen him go out of the door.

  “Did he come out even once at night?’ Ritika asked the guard.

  The guard’s facial muscles convulsed with hesitation.

  ‘Um, no. He’s been inside since last night.”

  Ritika stared hard at the guard’s eyes, trying to find a lie in them. But all she could find was guilt, as the guard didn’t dare meet her eyes and instead looked down. Ritika suddenly knew. The guard had dozed off at night.

  ***

  Chapter 37

  Today was the day.

  Olwyne was nervous. The sun beamed down hard and it was almost noon. She was at the gate of the palace. It was a wonder that the king had only changed the guarding positions of her and Angus despite all his fury yesterday. Olwyne had been sure they would be beheaded.

  The king’s men had opened the sealed door and many had gone inside the room to check on the dragon egg, only to be confirmed that someone had in fact stolen it.

  Presently Olwyne looked at the other guards with her, who were alert but blissfully unaware of their forthcoming death. Olwyne felt sad thinking of the families of the guards, but she couldn’t let herself hesitate at this moment. Maybe she would just wound the guards, instead of killing them. Some of the other rebels might kill them, or in the best scenario they might actually survive, and she would be spared of the guilt.

  As for Angus, he had been given a position at the treasury. The treasury was not far from the king’s chamber, and Angus had taken the responsibility of killing the king. Olwyne had expected him to leave the rebels after her refusal the other night. But Angus stuck to the plans as if nothing had happened between the two of them, although he hadn’t spoken a word to Olwyne after the incident.

  There were four guards in total with Olwyne. Two seemed senior to her, and the other two she reckoned were younger, barely out of boyhood. In the distance Olwyne spotted a small party of ten men advance. Olwyne exhaled slowly, preparing herself for the upcoming action.

  More rebels were hidden in shops in the neighbourhood of the palace. They were archers, ready with arrows aimed at the soldiers in the watchtowers overhead. All the risks they had taken earlier to smuggle weapons into the Royal Land was finally going to pay off.

  This first party had put on odd clothes, so as to look like people from far lands, maybe seeking rest at the king’s palace. They moved at a leisurely pace.

  “Check who they are!” Olwyne barked at one of the younger guards, when it was clear that the party was headed towards the palace gates. She wanted to keep herself out of suspicion as long as she could manage.

  The guard trotted away, sword in hand.

  “Strange clothes they are wearing, eh?” one of the older guards commented.

  “They look like travellers,” Olwyne said.

  The young guard exchanged some words with the men, and then trotted back to his companions.

  “They said they are from the far north,” the young guard said, “or at least that was what I thought. They can barely speak.”

  “Barely speak?” one old guard said, raising a brow, “What do they want?”

  “I think they want to meet the king,” the young guard replied.

  The older guard chuckled.

  “The king’s mood is off. He would rather execute them.”

  “So, I should tell them to go away?” the young guard said.

  “Yes, tell them the king cannot meet today. Maybe some other time.”

  The young guard went to the rebels again. But the men earnestly shook their heads. Olwyne couldn’t help but suppress a smile. The rebels were good actors.

  The young guard returned to the gate.

  “They are not going.”

  “You idiot!” one of the older guards barked, shaking his great moustache, “you can’t even send them away?”

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Olwyne said. “Maybe we should go and check.”

  “No, you stay here,” the older guard said. “Me and Amus will go and deal with them,” he said, referring to the other senior guard.

  With the two young soldiers by her side, Olwyne watched as the two senior guards approached the group of rebels. She gripped the hilt of her sword tightly.

  “Want to meet the king?” Amus asked the rebels, who nodded. “Let us check you people, then.”

  The rebels did not show the slightest fear at these words.

  “Would be insult,” one of them
said in a queer accent.

  “That’s no insult, my friend,” Amus said, “it’s for security.”

  And without saying more, Amus touched the sides of one man to check for hidden weapons. Amus froze abruptly, and looked up at the rebel.

  The next moment everything went wild.

  The rebel plunged a sword into Amus's stomach, and another man stabbed the other guard in the neck with a knife. Both guards fell.

  “No!” the young guards with Olwyne cried. They raised their swords and were about to go running at the rebels. But Olwyne grabbed their arms.

  “You can’t deal with them all!”

  “B-but,” one guard said, his face convulsing with anger and terror.

  “Go inside and inform everyone about the attack! That’s an order!” Olwyne barked. With some hesitation, the young guards ran towards the palace. Suddenly arrows appeared in the sky, and Olwyne heard cries from the watchtowers overhead.

  Nodding at the rebels, Olwyne ran inside the gates.

  “Attack! Attack!” she yelled, springing towards the big door of the palace.

  “What’s happening?” the guards near the door asked in terror.

  “A large army is attacking!” Olwyne cried in fake panic. And without waiting for the guards to react, she ran inside the castle, yelling “Attack! Attack!” at the face of every person she met, be it servant, maid, guard or minister. Very soon, she had succeeded in creating a state of utter pandemonium inside the castle. People ran to and fro in a desperate attempt to deal with the crisis.

  More groups of rebels—who had been hiding in the neighbourhood disguised as civilians—poured into the castle premises. Some rebels set fire to whatever they could find, while others fought with guards. The belief that a really large army was attacking broke the morale of the guards, and suddenly the greatest castle in the continent could provide little resistance against the attackers.

  ***

  Angus waited outside the treasury door with three other guards. It was time, and soon he expected— at least hoped— that he would hear news of an attack. He was already jittery, and his voice quivered even in normal conversation with the other guards, such was his excitement.

  Angus’ heart drummed as hurried footsteps reached his ears. A man-servant appeared at the other end of the corridor, running like he had seen a ghost. The servant was out of breath by the time he reached the treasury door.

  “What’s the matter?’ the guards asked him.

  “A… Attack!” the servant said, panting, “a big army has attacked!”

  “What!” Angus said in fake surprise.

  “You four have been called to the king’s chamber to protect him. Hurry there fast!”

  “What about the treasury?” one guard said.

  “Forget it; the king is more important,” the servant said, “go fast. I need to inform other guards as well.” And so saying the servant ran away, taking another corridor that would lead him to other guards.

  The four men now exchanged looks.

  “Let’s go then,” Angus said to his companions.

  And they hurried to the king’s chamber. There were already a few guards inside it, and after the four of them entered, the door of the chamber was closed.

  It was a grim atmosphere inside the chamber. Angus spotted a cage that contained a very small person—a girl— the size of Mortugal. She was wearing a white dress and Xuhn reckoned that she was a friend of Mortugal and Xuhn. She was looking with anxious attention at the trolls present. Once her eyes met with Angus’, but he quickly removed his gaze.

  “… Now what’s this army,” a frail-looking troll, who had a hunched back and a white beard, was saying. It was Daruah, the prime minister. “Who has the courage to challenge us?”

  “I heard it’s an army from the north,” one soldier said.

  “The northern kingdoms dare not challenge us with a surprise attack,” Daruah said, his green face darkening. He had white hair flowing down to his shoulders, and his eyes were like slits. His pointed nose somehow gave him a very sinister aura, as if he could stab somebody’s soul with his nose.

  “I should have crushed everyone long ago,” the king suddenly spoke up. Till now, the tyrant had been looking down and pondering heavily. He was wearing his crown and looked majestic.

  Angus was afraid the king would suddenly look up and meet his eyes. Angus had met the king’s eyes yesterday, and boy, Angus had almost pissed in his pants. The king wasn’t even a bulky individual, and Angus could easily beat him in hand to hand combat. But the king could send one to hell with a mere glare. There was something terrifying about the way he looked at people.

  “I think these are just rebels,” one soldier said.

  The king gritted his teeth and fumed.

  “Everyone will be crushed. I’ll burn down the entire kingdom. Nobody shall dare rise against me. Not other kingdoms, not my own people.”

  “Your majesty,” Daruah said hesitantly, obviously cautious of the king’s bad temper, “I think it’s best that you escape through the secret route.”

  “Have you lost your head?” the king barked in disbelief, “The secret route? It’s meant to be used during utter crisis.”

  “But this is utter crisis, my lord,” Daruah said, “we don’t know the size of the army that is attacking. And if the rumours are true, the army has surrounded us on all sides. And they will come inside the castle to get you. It’s best that we leave now.”

  “Rubbish!” the king spat on the embroidered carpet. “I will stay here. Don’t be a coward.”

  “It’s not cowardice to be sane,” Daruah said, picking his words wisely. “A wise king knows when the time to stay is, and when he should leave and come back later.”

  The king was silent for some time, contemplating over the minister’s words. The tension in the room was so great that Angus found it difficult to breathe.

  Finally the king nodded.

  “Daruah,” he said, “perhaps you are right. It’s time for me to leave. But I promise to behead every single person involved in any way to whatever is happening today.”

  Angus shivered at these words. The king really meant what he said. He thought about his mother and uncle. He hoped the king would never get to them in the scenario that the rebels were unsuccessful today.

  “You heard what the lord said!” Duarah yelled at the soldiers. “Open the secret route!”

  Two of the soldiers, who seemed to know where the route was, immediately set to work. They removed the carpet on the floor, revealing a trap door. They opened it. Angus saw countless steps leading down.

  Daruah lighted a torch and led the way down. The king took a last glance of the room.

  “Such a bad day has come that I must leave my chamber like this,” he said, anger and sorrow pouring from his words, “but I will be back.” His eyes rested on the cage inside which was Corpsia, glaring hard at the king. The king smiled in a malicious but sad way.

  “I thought I would make you big and marry you,” the king told Corpsia, “but look what happened! All my plans have gone awry.”

  “Your majesty, do you want us to take her along?” one soldier offered respectfully. The king thought for a moment, licking his lips.

  “No,” he decided, “let her stay here. It’s only a matter of time before everything is sorted out.”

  And the king followed the minister down. The soldiers followed. Angus was the last to go. He nodded at Corpsia, who just frowned confusedly in return. Just as he was closing the trap door behind him—the trap door and the carpet had some springs attached such that closing the trap door made the carpet cover it—Angus glanced at a window and glimpsed a white bird flying outside, one that looked more like a lizard.

  Xuhn.

  Angus followed the group down. Fear wrapped its cold arms around him, since the only light available was that of the minister’s torch. Angus also felt responsible, for it was he who must kill the king. But he had absolutely no idea how he was going to carry tha
t out.

  None of the other soldiers present in the group had any connection with the rebels, and they wouldn’t be merciful if Angus made a failed attempt at the king’s life. To add to that, Angus had no idea where the tunnel led to. Olwyne had never told him about the existence of this particular escape route.

  They kept walking downwards. Occasionally the tunnel would become vertical, and the steps would be so steep that it was a miracle nobody slipped. Angus imagined the palace on either sides of the tunnel. He imagined people running about on the outside of the tunnel with no knowledge of its existence.

  Angus had noted on occasions before that the walls of the castle seemed way too thick, and places where he had expected rooms had turned out to be mere thick walls. Now he knew the reason behind that.

  After sometime, the tunnel became horizontal again, and the walls of the tunnel were no longer made of brick, but raw earth. Apparently they were the under the palace now.

  The soldiers with Angus seemed as tense as him. He could hear them gulp and gasp occasionally. Except for the king, only the minster, Daruah, was fearless. He led on the party with his torch, determined.

  Finally they came to a place where the tunnel divided into three.

  “Which one should we take, your majesty?” the minster asked the king. The different tunnels apparently led to different places.

  For a long time the king spoke nothing, all sorts of thoughts going inside his elusive mind.

  “As far as I remember,” the king said at the end, “the left one leads to the village of Harn, the middle one leads to just outside the castle walls and the left one leads to the forest of Mihr.”

  “Absolutely, your majesty,” Daruah said.

  “Now,” the king said, “we really don’t know how big the army of the attackers is, and where they are hiding, do we? It’s just rumours that have forced us to take this tunnel.”

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “So, why don’t we go to the outside of the castle, and watch from there how big the army of the attackers is? It’ll be a shame if we flee because of a small army.”