Sovereign's Wake

by Lee LaCroix

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Garreth collected Novas shortly before midnight and told him to gear up. His father explained they wouldn’t be doing any hauling tonight. Instead, they were tasked to secure the market and to keep it that way. Novas shouldered his bow, equipped his quiver, and attached the scabbard of his longsword across his back. Berault and Eyrn managed the volunteers in the shady alley outside the tunnel and tried their best to keep them silent. Novas, Garreth, Cern, and Tamil were the first ones to enter the tunnels and soon made their way to the wooden entrance of the Black Market.

  “We shouldn’t move anything until we’re absolutely clear no one is here,” Novas instructed.

  The rest of the crew nodded and made their way through the door after Novas undid the latch. With bows drawn, Novas led the party through the winding maze of crates in the dimly lit expanse. When they came to the warehouse’s main vertical stretch, Novas peered out and saw two plainclothes clerks standing at the end towards the trademaster’s office. He pointed at his father and then down the row, and the two hunters turned into the aisle and sent two arrows into the necks of the clerks, dropping them to the floor. The crew swept towards them, picked up the bodies, and then dragged them back to their entrance of the maze. The blood would be a telltale sign of mischief, but there was little they could do about that.

  When the bodies were safely stored away in the tunnel, Novas led them to the alleyway entrance where the gigantesque doorman was asleep on a stool. Garreth cracked him over the head with the pommel of his sword, and the doorman tipped over like a falling tree. The four had quite the time dragging the doorman back towards the tunnels because he hardly fit through many the passages. When the body was deposited, Novas climbed onto a row of crates to get a better vantage point. He skipped across their tops, over chasms, and across shaky foundations, but his practiced agility kept him balanced as he traversed the entirety of the room. Garreth, Tamil, and Cern were waiting before Novas swooped down beside them and gave them a small fright.

  “It looks clear. I couldn’t see anyone else. The offices are locked and closed,” Novas explained.

  “Okay. Let’s get the movers in here. Go give Berault the signal, Novas,” Garreth commanded.

  Novas sighed, shrugged, and then went back into the tunnels. Before long, he had a stream of people in tow, excited to see what treasures awaited them. Tamil and Cern spread out to the southern alleyway entrance, Garreth guarded the northeastern door, and Novas watched from the crates above nearby. Novas watched the maze began to lose its shape as more and more crates were hauled away, leaving blank floor space, wooden splinters, and piles of dust. Full of smiles and glee, the volunteers worked swift and silent. Novas had originally instructed them to take the boxes closest to the tunnel door first. However, it seemed that greed was taking the better of some as the volunteers were snaking their way through the maze in search of better treasures. Novas did not mind as long as they hurried and kept silent.

  Spans of minutes passed, and Novas began to feel elated at the success of the mission. As he let out a long sigh of relief, there were three firm knocks at the door closest to Garreth. Novas shook his head at Garreth, and they waited for anything. There were three more solid knocks of the same loudness and tempo and then silence. Novas wondered to the nature of this knocking, for he did not know its reason himself. Cern sprinted up the aisle to where Novas was waiting above.

  “What was that!” Cern seethed under his breath.

  “Nothing, I hop-” Novas spoke before he was interrupted by a shattering smash.

  The southern and northeastern doors splintered and flew off their hinges. So shocked at their sudden entry, Tamil had no time to act before the steel gauntlets of the Queen’s Aegis threw her to the ground. Garreth had barely made it halfway down the row before a wave of guards came crashing through the door.

  “Flee! Escape! Make haste!” Garreth yelled as he bolted into the maze of crates.

  All around him were screams, the clattering of the moving armour, and the hustled pacing of fearful feet on floor. Novas hopped down into the aisle and led his father through the maze and back to the door. They could hear the yells of their fellow comrades being apprehended and the pleas for help and salvation, and Novas waited at the tunnel door as long as he could. The few lucky ones made their way through the entrance and past Novas, but as soon as he saw the legion of guards rushing through the aisle towards him, he slammed the door and ran.

  Novas made his way back through the tunnels and set the iron bars back into place at its entrance, waiting to see if the guards had followed him. With heavy breathing, Novas waited against the wall for any sight and sound. After a while, he was sure that the guards had lost themselves in the maze. He came out to the lower harbour entrance and found it devoid of people, so he dashed back to the Salty Dog and up the stairs. As he reached his floor, a note on his door instructed him to “come to B”. Novas ripped the note down and walked over to the door. He knocked twice and was herded inside. The door only opened for an instant and shut again. Novas walked into to the crowded study. Berault, Garreth, Eyrn, and Behn were inside.

  “Novas, did you see Tamil? Did you see Cern at all?” Berault questioned him, quick and frantic as a desperate plea.

  “No, no, I did not. Their door was the first to be broken. It all happened so fast. I don’t think everyone made it out,” Novas explained.

  “It was a trap. We should not have been so rash. So prideful. Although we moved many goods, will it be worth all those lives? We will pay a high price for this indeed,” Berault sighed as he slumped against his desk.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Novas was shaken out of sleep by firm hands. He had been only sleeping for a few hours, for the raid had gone on long that night, and they had retired even later after the rendezvous in Berault’s room. In his waking grogginess, he opened his eyes to see a shady silhouette grasping his shoulders, and he clenched them to throw them off.

  “Easy, Novas, easy. It’s just me. Get up now. We need to meet Berault in the courtyard for roll call,” Garreth explained.

  Novas responded with a moan, sat up on the edge of the bed, stood up, and then pulled on some clothes. Today felt like a bad omen. In the unconsciousness of sleep, he had forgotten the botched outcome of last night’s raid. He felt that there was going to be consequences to face today.

  Leaning against the wall in the hallway, Garreth waited for a time until Novas appeared, and they both left the room together. Walking through the Lower Quarter, the two noticed a large crowd pooling around the entrance to towards the Trade District. The gathering was more unwieldy than the usual queue, but the two were focused at the matter at hand and hurried into the courtyard. Berault was sitting at a desk that had been brought into the open courtyard, and there was an unfocused line of people surrounded by another crowd of the concerned. Garreth and Novas approached Berault at his table and saw him writing with a quill and ledger.

  “We’re at a total of eight missing persons from last night’s raid. That’s including Tamil and Cern,” Berault stated, sighing as he tapped his fingers against the inken ledger.

  “We’ll just have to go to the dungeons again and bust them out,” Garreth demanded, placing a clenched fist in his open palm.

  “I don’t think we can risk it again. After all the guards we saw last night and our previous break-in, I’m sure they’ll be expecting us with something nasty. Maybe nastier than last night, I’d imagine,” Berault explained.

  “We’ll have to think of something. What should we do in the meantime?” Garreth questioned with his arms crossed.

  “All the entrances to the Trade District from the Lower Quarter are closed today. The clerk at the gate is protesting that there is some structural fault, and there is emergency construction to be done, but this seems to be an unreasonable plause because the harbour gate is closed as well. I want you and Novas to head to the Trade District and see what’s going on,” Berault ordered.


  “We can do that,” Novas replied.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Berault concluded with a wave of his hand, and then was surrounded again by concerned denizens.

  “Ah, before you go. Mose had something to show you,” Berault relayed.

  Novas and Garreth made their way over and stood nearby as Mose was busy in the forge. When he had placed his hot metal down, he took off his gloves and greeted them.

  “When I heard what happened to Kayten, I became so angry, I felt like there was something I should do. I heard about the vicious, plate-wearing Queen’s Aegis, and how they can be trouble for all but the heaviest of blades. With them in mind, I designed these for you,” Mose explained.

  Mose went into the storage of the smithy and returned with an armful of arrows. The smith took one from the pile and balanced it on his finger.

  “Look at this head. It’s much heavier, and if I may admit, a much sharper design than the blunt stones you’ve been using. Should go right through that plate armour with a little extra force. I had my apprentice take a bundle over to Tummas at the tavern for you,” Mose told them.

  Novas and Garreth smiled. No longer would they have to blunt their swords against the thick skin of the Queen’s Aegis.

  Garreth and Novas made their way outside the courtyard and muscled their way through the murmuring crowd to the front of the closed gates. The gate was blocked from shoulder to shoulder by the immovable Queen’s Aegis, and the two soon found the gate clerk surrounded by impatient customers and raucous vendors.

  “As you can see! There are important repairs being made to the gate at this time and no one can be allowed through!” the clerk shouted in response to a volley of protests and then pointed to an addition to the gate: a collection of cloth tarps, mismatched piles of bricks, and a set of ladders.

  Garreth and Novas shrugged, headed out of the crowd, ventured towards the harbour. They slipped into the alleyway nearest to the harbour and arrived at the iron bar gate before the tunnel. Novas lifted up the bars and set them aside, and Garreth put a hand on his shoulder.

  “We don’t know what could be in there. It could be constantly guarded now. We should go arm ourselves,” Garreth warned his son.

  Novas nodded, and they left the storm drain and took the back alleys towards the Salty Dog. Before long, they were in and out with longswords, quivers, and bows and were back at the tunnel. The small slivers of sunlight that pierced through the tiny slats in the drain way were light enough for Novas now, and he made his way through the tunnels without error. They emerged from a sliding wooden door placed behind a bale of hay, and the livestock vendor did not notice the two men slip from behind his pen and out into the crowd, for he was preoccupied with a new addition to the Trade District.

  The center of the commercial core had been cleared away, and a large area for spectating now stood. Towards the south, there were even newly constructed bandstands with shady, cloth-drawn overhangs. The pair couldn’t see much from their place in the crowd, for they were obscured by towering vendors, so they pushed through the waiting people to oversee the entire installation. Garreth found a divide in the vendor’s tents and shouldered forward into a recess that gave him a better look at the recently erected stage, which there was a sizable crowd around. Men in their strolling waistcoats and breeches led umbrella-shaded women around the wide pavilion as if they were there to see a show. Novas looked up onto the stage, witnessed a strange wooden apparatus with rope, pulleys, and levers, and stood staring at it. Garreth, however, was no stranger to the noose and glanced at the stage in anger and terror. His fears were confirmed as a round of applause rose up among the spectators, and a procession of prisoners were escorted to the stage by the Queen’s Aegis.

  “Novas. Go quickly! Tell Berault to bring everybody!” Garreth yelled as he pushed his son out of the crowd.

  Garreth watched his son disappear into the sea of bodies and then looked back to the stage itself. Out of the eight prisoners on stage, four were being placed in their fateful places and stopped under the shadowy ring of the noose. Garreth’s heart leapt and began to pound as the black bags were taken off the prisoners heads, and the bruised visages of Cern and Tamil came into view. With their heads down, their battered eyes almost sealed shut, and a hopeless look on their faces, Garreth could hardly stomach it. He slowed his breathing to calm his self and tried to think of a plan. He couldn’t rush the stage alone, for there were far too many guards. Since he had no fire, he could not burn the stage down, but even then he would put his allies in serious danger.

  He looked around for something to aid him. He needed to gain an advantage on the situation as dire as it seemed. Garreth pushed through the crowd, climbed up the bandstand, and put himself over the top railing. He soared over the heads of pedestrians as he launched himself onto the multi-leveled display of a rug craftsman and balanced across the rolls of hanging rugs despite the angered vendor’s threats and slander. From there, Garreth pitched himself onto a low roof overlooking the pavilion and took up the vantage point.

  Much to Garreth’s surprise and dismay, Lord Vyse, dressed in his leather finery of polished black and glinting gold, was led onto the stage by another procession of armed guards. With a smile on his face and his dark strands of hair dancing around his shallow face, Lord Vyse charmed the crowd with a warm posture and a refined wave of his hands. Flanked on each side by six guards, the man took up a conical megaphone in hand and bowed to the crowd.

  “My fellow Malquians! I present you with the criminals and scoundrels who bloody our sparkling streets and steal the wealth from your coffers as you sleep! As you know, the Blackwoods have made steps to safeguard the livelihood and commerce of Amatharsus’s vital tradesmen and to protect your freedom and your ability to live how you want, when you want!” Lord Vyse bellowed to a series of cheering and booing from the responding crowd.

  “We have done our best to control the riff-raff that steal from your pockets, desecrate your property, and corrupt your youth. But these vile men and these wicked women, despite our best intentions, look to undermine your wellbeing and take everything you justly deserve. They murdered upstanding gentlemen like the ones you see before me for personal gain and to free criminals like themselves from punishment under the Queen’s laws!” Vyse accused.

  “The Blackwoods only want to see peace and civility restored to this divided city. I’m sure you’ll all agree that it begins with removing the source of the problem. With that in mind, we have graciously designed and constructed this stage to be the final solution. For your entertainment, and your utmost satisfaction,” the lord explained, and the crowd shouted and whistled at him.

  “Let’s not wait any longer! Let the justice begin!” Lord Vyse yelled as he raised his hands to the crowd and took a bow, which was responded with thunderous applause and cheering.

  The guards stepped forward, put the four prisoners into places over the trap doors, and then securely fastened the nooses around their necks. Cern and Tamil waited with heads bowed and eyes closed as they awaited their judgment. A man adorned with black hood with gold thread appeared from the back of the stage and took his place next to the lever.

  “Just – tice! Just – tice! Just – tice! Just – tice!” the crowd chanted as the ceremony proceeded.

  As the executioner moved forward and grasped the lever, the chants of the crowd rose to a climax. Between the executioner’s hands first touching the lever’s handle to swift motion that would bring upon the hangman’s doom, an arrow sped from the rooftops and shattered the pulley’s mechanism, landing in the contraption with a splintering crash. The crowd roared in protest as their bloodlust was not sated, and every one of the Queen’s Aegis pulled out their swords and began to search the area, thirsty for revenge.

  The outcry did not diminish but was replaced by a different yell entirely. Screams rang out, and a gap appeared in the crowded audience as they dispersed in terror. No longer did the repetitive chant for blood ring out alone. A roar rose from
within the crowd, and Garreth spotted familiar claymore rise in front of the surging throng. In front of the mass, a hulking man stood in steel plate armour. This time, however, he was draped in a blood red tabard.

  “Rebellion!” Behn yelled as he raised his sword and charged the stage with a tide of armed warriors roaring beside him.

  The innumerable steel soldiers of the Queen’s Aegis seemed to emerge from every angle. From behind vendors, out of alleyways, and through the stage, they appeared. As the remaining set of guards on stage moved to execute the prisoners, Garreth withdrew one of Mose’s new arrows and drew the bow back to the extreme. He released the heavy arrow with a breath, and it screamed through the air before planting itself in the chest of one of the guards. At seeing their formidable friend fall, the guards became frightened, and they stumbled. In an instant, a volley of arrows rained upon the stage from the rebel’s back ranks and slew the rest of the guards onstage.

  Behn’s sizable squad met the Queen’s Aegis in the middle of the pavilion, which soon became an arena of mayhem and bloodshed. Garreth had not seen such a battle of that size for years. As there was no chance of being surrounded with this many allies, Behn and his massive sword reached out into the oncoming crowd, throwing guards to the ground and to their dooms. Clad in the second set of plate armour, Eyrn watched Behn’s left flank and advanced across the pavilion with the rest of his students towards the stage. Without fear, those twin titans of sword and steel led their comrades against the innumerable waves that rushed in against them. It had seemed all the Queen’s Aegis barracks and all the castle had been emptied for this decisive showdown.

  “Go! Hurry! We have to save them!” a familiar voice cried out over the chaos.