The Emperor's Guard

by Kevin Hopson

  “Like I said, I have gold. Just name your price.”

  Telor deliberated. It was an offer few could refuse, and he expected the snake handler to eventually come to his wits. But he shook his head again. “I’m sorry.”

  Saying those words was Telor’s first mistake. The second mistake was when he turned to go back inside. Glory wrapped his fingers around his knife handle, pulling the blade from its sheath as he took swift strides in Telor’s direction. Before Telor even sensed him, the knife was lodged in the man’s back. Just below the ribs. In Telor’s right kidney.

  Glory yanked the metal from Telor’s body and held the blade in one hand. He clutched the door knob with his free hand and turned it, the disjointed door creaking ajar. Glory spotted a wood barrel a few yards ahead, quickly moving toward it. When he peeked his head over the top of it, he was delighted to see several snakes at the bottom.

  Then a distraction. Movement in his peripheral. He looked off to the side. A woman. Telor’s wife.

  # # #

  On his knees, the man called Glory could hear the crashing of the nearby waterfalls. His parents hadn’t given him that name, but he was growing accustomed to it the past two days. He made sure the spot was secluded to avoid any possibility of detection. The hole was deep enough, so he laid the items at the bottom of the cavity, filling in the empty space with the soil he’d just dug from the earth.

  He stood and put a boot to the dirt, pushing down and flattening it under his weight. Then he threw some leaves overtop for good measure. The trees were turning bare, so it neatly blended in with the rest of the landscape. Even he would have difficulty finding it upon second inspection.

  Now it was time to wait, but he didn’t care to hang around. His plan had been successful thus far, but his mission wasn’t complete. Telor’s wife was the next step. He’d spared her life. He didn’t want to kill, but sometimes the plan required it. Some had to die while others had to live to tell the tale.

  # # #

  Asgall and Colum were halfway back to the palace when a clapping of hooves caught the Commander’s attention. He turned, and a woman atop a horse headed straight for them. The stallion was in an all-out sprint, several people along the street darting toward the buildings just to avoid being run down. When she showed no sign of letting up, Asgall reached across his body, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. Colum followed suit.

  Her eyes widened as she neared, now realizing that two Guard members were standing in her way. She pulled back on the reins in an attempt to slow the horse, and the animal obliged. Coming to a stop a few yards away, the woman dismounted, Asgall noticing moisture beneath her eyes. Sweat? No. Her eyes were bloodshot, and those were tears running down her face. Asgall eased up, putting both hands at his side.

  “You need to help me,” she said. “My husband’s been murdered.”

  Her plea caught Asgall off guard. “What?”

  “My husband, Telor Wogan. A man just stabbed him. A man in a mask.”

  Asgall glanced at Colum, the dumbfounded look on Colum’s face matching his own. He focused on the woman again. “Where was this?”

  “On our property. Out near the Rosewood Farmstead.”

  It was a few miles away. Much too far to walk, especially given the urgency of the situation. Asgall pondered. The Guard had several outposts throughout the city, each one equipped with horses in the event that members had to make haste.

  “Anvil Post,” Asgall said to Colum. “It’s closest to us.”

  Colum nodded, and the two of them set out for Anvil Post.

  # # #

  When they arrived at the Wogan residence, Asgall immediately spotted Telor. The man laid on his stomach along the ground, the back of his shirt soaked with blood. Asgall got down from his horse, and Colum followed. The woman ran to Telor and kneeled beside him, her tears starting up again.

  He looked to Colum and whispered. “A strike to the right kidney. The same as Elis Morgan.”

  Colum bobbed his head. “And she said he wore a mask. What are the chances?”

  “I’m not a wagering man, but I’d say they’re pretty good.”

  Asgall hesitated to speak to the woman. She was in the middle of another breakdown, and he could sense her anguish.

  “Please accept our condolences,” Asgall mustered.

  She rubbed the sleeve of her shirt against her face, taking a moment to compose herself. “He spared my life. I’m not certain why. Maybe to torture me the rest of my life.”

  “You said he wore a mask?” She nodded but said nothing. “I know this may be difficult to remember, but did it have hinged flaps on the side?”

  She nodded again. “I couldn’t see any part of his face, but I overheard the two of them.”

  “The man and your husband?”

  “Yes. Only part of the conversation but enough to catch his name. He said it was Glory.” That last word forced Asgall to take pause. “And he took something with him. One of our snakes. He killed it and walked off with it.”

  Asgall glimpsed Colum, and Colum shrugged in return.

  “Any idea why he would have done that?” Asgall asked her.

  “I haven’t a clue, just like I have no idea why he would kill my husband.”

  Asgall mulled it over. “It’s a game,” he murmured to Colum. “He let her go because he knew she’d come running to us. It’s as if he wants us to know it’s him.”

  “I agree. But why?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. I think it’s time to make a trip to Clearwater Falls.”

  Colum glared at him. “I’m not questioning you, sir, but this could be a setup.”

  “Most likely. Which is why we’ll be prepared.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Asgall watched from afar. From the edge of the Brownfair Woodlands, to be precise. He laid atop a hill, looking down on Glory’s property. He wanted to be with the rest of the Guard members he’d called upon, but Colum always insisted on keeping the Commander out of harm’s way. Sometimes Asgall overruled him. Other times he gave in and accepted Colum’s advice.

  This time Asgall felt he could do his job from a distance, especially since the other men had expertise in certain areas that he lacked. Seoras was his demolitions expert, and Asgall tracked his movement. After several minutes of inspecting the premises for boobytraps, Seoras gave Colum a hand signal. Colum, who was proficient with locks, cautiously approached a door at the rear of the house.

  Then Seoras motioned to Eachann. Eachann was on the opposite side of the house. He moved in and hovered near the front entrance. He was built like a bull. Bulky and strong with a low center of gravity. Seoras stood along the side of the house, offering a line of sight to both Colum and Eachann. Colum signaled to Seoras, who then relayed the sign to Eachann. It was time.

  Asgall’s job was to eye the perimeter. To make sure the men didn’t run into any surprises. And if Glory was inside and managed to escape, Asgall would be their safety net. Despite being older than most of the men under his command, Asgall still took pride in his sprinting ability.

  He focused on Eachann, his breathing picking up in anticipation of what was about to come. Eachann kicked in the front door, disappearing into the house. Colum entered from the rear, Asgall quickly losing sight of him. Seoras remained at the side of the house, giving him a clear view of both exits.

  Several minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity to Asgall. Colum and Eachann suddenly exited the house, and Seoras motioned to Asgall. Asgall got up from his resting position and descended the hill, the nearby waterfalls coming into better view. The men converged on one another, the other three huddling together and meeting Asgall halfway.

  “I take it he’s not here,” Asgall said. The men shook their heads in unison. “Does the house appear to have been deserted?”

  “I don’t think so,” Colum
answered. “The ashes in the fireplace are fresh. He was here recently.”

  “What else did you find?”

  “Not much,” Eachann answered. “The house has some food and supplies but nothing else of significance.”

  “Any signs that he left in a hurry?”

  Eachann shrugged. “It’s difficult to say. If he kept the house fully stocked, we could assume that he packed up and left. But we don’t know.”

  Asgall nodded. “Either way, he could still be in the vicinity. I’d like the three of you to stay behind and examine everything within a five-hundred-yard radius of the house.”

  “Yes, sir,” Eachann said.

  “Where are you going, sir?” Colum asked.

  “Back to the palace. I need to update the Emperor. He’s probably curious as to where we’ve been all day.”

  “I don’t think you should go alone, sir. Please allow me to accompany you.”

  “I appreciate that, but I need you here. You’re our best tracker. If Glory’s left any clues behind, I know you’ll find them.” Colum gawked at him. “But I will take your advice. Eachann can accompany me back to palace.”

  Colum managed a slight grin. “Thank you, sir.”

  # # #

  Asgall and Eachann rode their own horse, traveling side by side back to the palace. After they arrived, Asgall hadn’t even stepped down from the stirrups when a member of the Guard swiftly approached.

  “Commander,” he said. “The Emperor has fallen ill.”

  “What?”

  “He’s in his chambers right now. The doctor would like to speak with you promptly.”

  Asgall dismounted the horse and made haste inside, Eachann following on his heels. He walked a long hallway, past a banquet hall, up a flight of stairs, and down another passageway. He saw Tormod standing outside the Emperor’s bedroom, and the behemoth pulled open one of the doors so Asgall could enter.

  Asgall turned to Eachann. “I’d like you to guard the door with Tormod. No one enters unless you get permission from me first.”

  “Yes, sir,” Eachann replied.

  Asgall nodded to Tormod and entered the Emperor’s chambers, the door quickly closing behind him. He could see from a distance that the Emperor was laying in his canopy bed, the covers tucked all the way up to his neck. As Asgall neared, he noticed that the Emperor’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow.

  “Commander,” the doctor said, his upper lip barely noticeable due to his thick mustache and heavy gray beard. He stood from the bedside chair, staring at Asgall through his spectacles. “I worried you wouldn’t make it back in time.”

  “My apologies,” Asgall said. “I had some important matters to handle. If I’d known about the Emperor’s condition, I would have been here sooner.”

  The scene in front of him felt surreal. Asgall lost his parents as a child, and he had no siblings. His uncle, the Emperor, had raised him like his own, and the Empress, who they lost to a boating accident a few years ago, was just as instrumental in his upbringing.

  The Emperor was the only blood family he had left, which was his primary reason for joining the Guard. He wanted to be the Emperor’s personal protector. But now he looked at him with helplessness. Asgall could fight all of the enemies in the world, but even he couldn’t battle death. It came to all of them at some point.

  Asgall refused to think that way. He discarded the thought and stared at the doctor. “When did this happen?”

  “Shortly after lunch.”

  “Was it something he ate?”

  The doctor shrugged. “I can’t say for certain. It’s possible, but the suddenness of it is what concerns me the most.”

  “Has he been conscious at all?”

  “I’m afraid not. His heart is weak, and his breathing is labored. A man of my profession would have a difficult time admitting it, but I’ll be honest with you. I’m not sure what to do.”

  Those words brought heartache to Asgall, and his stomach quivered. “Do you mind if I sit with him?”

  “Not at all, sir.”

  The doctor stepped aside and made his way to the other side of the bed. Asgall sat in the chair, pulling it closer to the Emperor. He gripped the Emperor’s hand and squeezed. Asgall hoped the Emperor would sense his presence and react, perhaps by squeezing his own hand, but nothing came.

  # # #

  Asgall sat with the Emperor for several hours, refusing to leave his side. He’d nearly forgotten about Colum and Seoras. When they arrived back at the palace, they were told of the Emperor’s dire situation. Despite being members of the Guard, Eachann had asked Asgall’s permission to allow them entry, per the Commander’s instructions earlier in the afternoon.

  “Of course,” Asgall replied. “Let them in.”

  “Sir,” Colum said, worry weighing heavily on his face. “How did this happen?”

  Asgall shook his head. “No one knows.”

  There was a moment of silence. Then Colum stuttered. “Sir.”

  “Yes.”

  He hesitated. “It’s not important.”

  Given the pain Asgall was feeling, he actually welcomed the distraction. “No. Please tell me.”

  “We made some interesting discoveries out at Glory’s place.”

  “He’s being modest,” Seoras said. “Colum’s the one who deserves all of the credit.”

  “In any case,” Colum said, “our findings might be able to shed some light on recent events.”

  “What did you find?” Asgall asked.

  Colum grasped the sack that hung over his shoulder, lowering it to the floor. He opened the bag and pulled something from it.

  Asgall squinted. “A snake?”

  “With a lock of hair tied to it.”

  “I don’t understand. Where did you find this?”

  “Buried a good distance from the house.”

  “What’s the meaning of it?”

  “I have my theories, but perhaps Seoras should mention our other finding first.”

  Asgall looked to Seoras, raising his eyebrows.

  “Baddon Maddox,” Seoras said. “Also known as Glory.”

  “We know that. What about him?”

  “We found his body. It was buried about a hundred yards from the snake that Colum found.”

  That development was difficult for Asgall to fathom. “Are you sure?”

  “I met the man several years ago. It’s him, sir.”

  “If you were able to identify him, then surely he hasn’t been dead long.”

  “That was our thought, too, sir,” Colum interrupted. “The soil was fresh. Someone did an admirable job of burying both of them, but they didn’t cover their tracks well. If not for that, I likely wouldn’t have found them.”

  Asgall put a hand to his face, rubbing his beard as he pondered. “This raises even more questions.” He glanced at Colum. Then at Seoras. “What are your thoughts?”

  “Glory could have been working with someone,” Seoras said, “and maybe he and his partner had a falling out.”

  “That’s certainly possible.”

  “Or perhaps we’ve been misled all along,” Colum said. “What if someone killed Glory and took his identity?”

  Asgall nodded. It was a fascinating theory, and one that made sense to him. But the killer’s motive remained unclear. “Tell me about the snake.”

  “I believe it’s witchcraft,” Colum said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve read books on this type of thing.”

  Asgall grinned. “Hopefully as a source of information and not to actually carry out such acts.”

  Colum returned the gesture. “Of course, sir.”

  “What’s the purpose of it?”

  “By tying a lock of hair to the snake, you’re creating a bond between the
human and the snake. If you wanted someone to die, for instance, you would need a lock of their hair. Then you kill the snake, tie the lock to the snake, and bury the two together. Since the snake is dead, the human bonded to it would die soon after. But it has to be buried near a body of water, which gives the curse its energy. Clearwater Falls is one of only a few sources of water in Southwallow, and it’s certainly the most remote. If he wanted to bury it out of sight, that would be the place to do it.”

  Once again, Colum’s theory intrigued Asgall. It was only a few seconds later that he realized a possible connection between the snake and the killer.

  “Wait,” Asgall said, standing from the chair. “Let me see the lock.” Colum approached him, and Asgall eyed the hair. Then he rubbed a portion of it between his index finger and thumb. “It’s thin. Very fine. And a light shade of brown.” Asgall wanted to be careful what he said next, but he couldn’t contain himself. “It resembles the Emperor’s hair.”

  Those words caused the room to go quiet.

  “I’m sure it does,” Colum said, wavering. “But it likely resembles a lot of people’s hair in Southwallow.”

  “True enough, but think about it. Glory, or whomever it is pretending to be him, stole the snake this morning. Let’s assume they buried the snake immediately after. Then the Emperor suddenly falls ill after lunch. No symptoms. No warning. Do you believe that a coincidence?”

  No one replied, and an awkward silence followed.

  “Where would he get the lock of hair?” Colum finally said.

  “That’s a good question, but Elis Morgan has a reputation. People come to him when they seek rare and valuable items.”

  “You said he’s never been found guilty of breaking the law, though.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s been acting within the law.” Asgall hesitated. “If someone wanted the Emperor dead, what would their punishment be for killing him?”

  “Death. Without a doubt.”

  “Precisely, which is why framing someone would have to be foolproof, at least in the eyes of the culprit. The mask would be one way of doing it. It hides the true identity of the person, and it can be tied to the figure they’re impersonating.”