The Treachery Of A Weasel

by Robert Blanchard

  “L—Lord Sirak,” Norvin fumbled, “I’m sorry! We—we can try again!”

  Sirak tilted his head slightly. “Oh, Norvin … so pathetic and desperate. I didn’t trust you when I bestowed these gifts upon you, which is why I installed my own little failsafe. Unbeknownst to you, your free will only went so far. You still have to do what I say.”

  My mind drifted away for a moment, remembering what Sirak had told me when I was his captive. So that’s what he meant …

  “And as you’re still under my control,” Sirak continued, “you must follow my orders. And I order you … to fight Aidan, right here, right now.”

  Those were some of the sweetest words I had ever heard … and from Sirak, of all people.

  CHAPTER 18

  “L-Lord Sirak!” Norvin begged. “Let’s talk about this!”

  “Your mouth continues to run, yet you are all talked out, Norvin,” Sirak responded. By Sirak’s power, Norvin was gently lowered from the wall to the courtyard floor. “Even as much as you might want to, you will not be able to flee. You will fight, to the very end.”

  In Norvin’s face, I could see him trying to resist—but resisting, it appeared, was futile.

  Realization finally sank in to Norvin’s weasel-like face—his expression changed from fear and desperation to anger and determination, though it was clearly forced.

  “I’m capable of more than you can imagine, Aidan,” he said, and his voice quivered only slightly. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

  I smiled at him, and I could feel the malice in it. “Save your breath for your judgement before the gods, Norvin. You’ll need it to plead for your soul.”

  Norvin had drawn his longsword and had his shield ready by that point—whether by his own will or not, I didn’t know. “Suit yourself, Aidan—don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “The only thing you need to ‘warn’ me about is where to ship the pieces of your body when I’m done with them.”

  The look on Norvin’s face shifted from fierce defiance to cold fear—it was only for a split second, but I saw it.

  Behind me, the people of Longchester, now fully cognizant and aware of what was going on, began to cheer me on, calling for Norvin’s head. Even in their previous Ther-lor state, they were aware of what was happening to them, and they knew of Norvin’s and King Marion’s treachery.

  Now they wanted to see Norvin pay the price. And I was more than happy to oblige them.

  Norvin and I met in the center of the courtyard, trading blows with lightning speed. With our enhanced powers, I’m sure the battle was too fast to depict with human eyes. We swung, parried, and blocked, neither man able to gain a sufficient edge on the other. This probably went on for quite some time, but for me, it didn’t seem long at all.

  Finally, we were at a standstill. We stalked each other—Norvin was clearly desperate, searching for anything he could use to his advantage. He came at me with an attempt to bash me with his shield, a clumsy attempt. I stepped back to dodge the shield, then stepped forward and kicked him solidly in the chest, sending him flying across the courtyard.

  Norvin pulled himself up to a kneeling position and turned his back to me. He was feigning pain, but he wasn’t fooling me—Ther-lor couldn’t feel pain. I carefully stalked him, ready for him to try some sort of surprise sword swing. When I got close enough, he did spin at me, but he didn’t swing his sword.

  He threw dirt and rocks in my face.

  Textbook dirty tactic, but I had to admit it wasn’t what I was expecting at that moment. Partially blinded, I watched as a blurry version of Norvin charged at me, attempting to stab me through the stomach. I narrowly avoided the attempt, but then Norvin swung a backhand slash with his sword, which I parried with a stroke of luck. Norvin was relentless, doing everything he could to take advantage of this small opportunity. He managed to connect with a kick of his own, and it sent me flying back across the courtyard. I hit the wall and crumpled to the ground.

  People began to jeer and boo Norvin for his dirty tactic.

  Norvin was strolling over to me, saying something about always having something up his sleeve. But I wasn’t really listening … I was concentrating.

  Two can play at this game …

  I focused on my power, letting it build and build …

  And when Norvin was close enough, I unleashed it.

  I spun and thrust my hands at Norvin, and the lightning blast sent him flying back across the courtyard and into the opposite wall. I picked up my shortswords and walked back over to him, taking my time.

  The surge of lightning didn’t hurt Norvin—that wasn’t my intention. It was simply to show him that dirt wasn’t going to do the trick—and to show him what he was really up against.

  Norvin was on his knees, staring at me incredulously. “What are you?”

  “I ask myself that everyday, Norvin, and I usually have no answers. But today, for this small moment in time, I do know what I am—I am your tour guide to the land of the dead.”

  Somehow, Norvin’s eyes bugged out more than they already were. He clearly tried to turn and run, but an invisible force stopped him. He glanced up at the wall, where Sirak was still watching, amused.

  “You think this is funny?” He screamed.

  “More appropriate than funny, perhaps,” Sirak smirked. In that split second, the thought hit me …

  Sirak and I are working together.

  “I’ve done nothing any of you wouldn’t have done!” Norvin yelled indignantly at me.

  Just the mere notion that he even thought that was true disgusted me. I strolled slowly toward him as I spoke. “You betrayed your entire country. You got me exiled. You betrayed Sirak. You kidnapped Mirabelle. You tried to turn me and my friends into Ther-lor. You killed Kirra. Not even death is a good enough punishment for you, Norvin. Pick up your sword and shield—it’s time to end this.”

  Norvin obliged, albeit reluctantly. His confidence and smug demeanor were gone—in its place was a man who knew his time was almost up.

  Visibly shaking, Norvin stood to face me. He looked at me, then up at Sirak, then back at me. I knew there was nowhere to go. He had no choice but to fight.

  He swung his longsword, a half-hearted attempt, that I dodged easily. I spun around and swung hard, slicing through his armor and opening up a gash on his chest. As a Ther-lor, Norvin didn’t feel the pain of the blow, but he expressed surprise. Before he could respond, I knocked his sword out of his hand and kicked him back up against the wall. Norvin crumpled to the ground.

  Norvin laid there while I stalked him, utterly defeated.

  “Hold for a moment, Aidan,” came Sirak’s voice from above.

  I stopped at looked up at him as he extended his hand toward Norvin. A tiny ball of light materialized from his hand and slowly made its way to Norvin’s defeated form. Once the ball of light reached Norvin, Norvin himself began to glow with a blinding light, forcing me to cover my eyes with my arm. When the light died down, Norvin was human again. Now that he could feel pain, Norvin screamed in agony and clutched the wound on his chest.

  I took a couple steps closer to him, swords at my sides.

  “Do I get any last words?” Norvin asked with derision.

  “I recall no such courtesy from you,” I replied evenly.

  Norvin gritted his teeth and glared at me, anger clearly burning through his body. If he could have used that one look to kill me, my head could have been completely severed from my body.

  “Go on, then,” he growled at me. “Finish it.”

  He pulled himself up to a kneel, his head bowed. I sheathed one of my swords, ready to use the other one with finish him off. As I approached him, all the pain and anguish of everything he had done to me flashed through my mind.

  He deserved this.

  I raised my sword over my head.

  Norvin just crouched there, waiting.

  I prepared to swing ...

  A gentle hand touched my shoul
der.

  “Aidan, no.”

  At the sound of that musical voice, one I had waited so long to hear and never thought I would hear again, the fires within me were smothered.

  “Let him rot in the dungeons for his crimes.”

  “That’s not good enough, Mirabelle.”

  “No punishment exists that would be worthy of what he has done,” she replied. “You’re not a cold-blooded killer, and you know as well as I do that killing him won’t make you feel better.”

  She was right. Sure, I had killed in battle, many times. But every life you take stays with you, haunting you. As you kill more and more, it builds up, and a restful night of sleep is never again possible. It stays with you for the rest of your life.

  Killing is never easy.

  “You’re right, my love,” I said with a sigh. “I wish there were—ugh!”

  Searing pain tore through my shoulder as Norvin stabbed it with a dagger he must have had hidden in his boot.

  Mirabelle pushed me aside and pulled my other shortsword from its sheath. Norvin backed off quickly and grabbed his longsword and shield. I yanked the dagger free as the two prepared to battle.

  That slippery little slime …

  With renewed vigor, Norvin slashed violently at Mirabelle. Even in a tattered gown, she dodged nimbly. The two traded blows that were parried and blocked, neither one giving anything to the other. Mirabelle was fighting with even more passion than usual—I was sure that after being held captive for so long, she was more than happy to get the chance to fight for herself again.

  Finally, Norvin tried a backhand slash with his sword that was blocked by Mirabelle. She responded with a kick to the back of the leg, dropping Norvin down to one knee. A spinning kick to the back of the head put Norvin down on his face. Not done, Mirabelle flipped my shortsword upside down and stabbed Norvin hard in the back of the thigh. Norvin screamed in pain and anguish.

  Mirabelle yanked my sword free and kicked Norvin’s sword and shield away from him. “Is there any other part of your body you would like stabbed before we continue, Norvin?”

  “Go to hell, you bitch,” Norvin growled.

  I thought Mirabelle would get angry—I know I was—but she simply smiled down at him in pity. “Oh, dear Norvin … because of you, I’ve already seen hell. But I’ve survived. When you get there one day—which you will—I can only hope you will be as fortunate. Kinda doubt it, though.”

  “If we are done here,” Sirak’s voice came from the top of the wall, “I will take our dear friend Norvin now. You’re not going to kill him, and as such, let me deal out the judgement for his betrayal.”

  I didn’t know that Mirabelle was going to approve of this either, but when I glanced at her to see what she thought, she merely shrugged slightly.

  I looked back at Sirak and nodded.

  Sirak extended his hand toward Norvin and emitted a blue light from his fingers. As the light surrounded Norvin, it was very apparent by his expression that he realized what was about to happen to him.

  “No! NO!” He screamed, and then he disappeared.

  Sirak then turned to me. “If this matter is concluded, I will take my leave.”

  I stared up at the evil lord. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you, Sirak. But know that this does not mean a truce—the next time we see each other, we will be at war.”

  Sirak bowed. “I look forward to that day, Lord Aidan.” Then he disappeared.

  After Sirak was gone, it felt like time stood still for just a split second. Nothing moved, there was no sound—like the whole world had frozen in place.

  Timor was suddenly next to me, breaking the silence. “Iskandor preserved Kirra’s body. She will not begin to decompose until she is buried.”

  I nodded in response, then turned to face the others, who had come out to join us in the courtyard. We stood there all alone, just absorbing the moment, and speaking for myself, trying to sift through the flood of emotions that were streaming through my body at that moment. The people of Longchester just looked on, undoubtedly sorting through their own emotions now that they had their souls back.

  Then a high-pitched, extremely annoying voice broke through the peaceful silence. “Guards! Kill them! KILL THEM!”

  I glared at Marion, who stood atop the steps of the castle, clearly terrified and desperate. Soldiers of Longchester began to emerge from the large crowd, but it was obvious that they were confused—they, too, had just gotten their souls back. They, as Ther-lor, had witnessed what Marion had done. They knew that we had saved them—and yet, they were still given an order by their king, which they had been trained to obey without hesitation.

  More and more soldiers emerged, though they were hardly walking with any purpose. Then Mirabelle shoved past me and moved to stand in defensively in front of us.

  “Stop right there! Do not move a muscle!”

  The soldiers froze in place, recognizing their leader. Marion may have detested Mirabelle, but the people loved her. For them, she was the symbol of beauty and strength that represented their country.

  “You have all seen what has happened,” Mirabelle said, loud enough to be heard by all. “Our alleged ‘king’ stole your souls and transformed you into creatures so that you would blindly obey any outlandish orders he may bestow upon you. He has not only betrayed me, my friends, and all of you—he has betrayed this entire world! These people behind me … they are our saviors! But even knowing all of this, if you choose to follow his orders, kill me and my friends, come then!” Still holding my shortsword, she set herself in an aggressive stance. “But know this—I will fight every last one of you to the very end before I let you touch them!”

  The soldiers looked at each other, confused. Then they looked at their king and back at Mirabelle.

  I saw the expressions of anger on their faces as they glanced at their king.

  One soldier separated himself from the crowd and walked slowly toward Mirabelle. Mirabelle stood ready to defend herself as the soldier approached. The soldier was holding a sword, but he was holding it at his side as he walked.

  The soldier stopped in front of Mirabelle, dropped to a knee, and bowed.

  Then all of the soldiers bowed.

  Then all of the people bowed.

  The entire city of Longchester was bowing to Lady Mirabelle.

  The amount of joy that I felt at that moment for Mirabelle could not be measured. I had tears in my eyes and even though I stood behind her, I knew that she was teary eyed as well.

  Mirabelle smiled at her people. “Thank you.”

  “Traitors!” Marion screamed from the castle steps. “Traitors traitors traitors TRAITORS!”

  His shrill voice broke the quiet, still moment of joy and revelation. I could tell by the look on Mirabelle’s face that she was thinking the same as I …

  There was still one person left in the city of Longchester to pay for these crimes.

  CHAPTER 19

  Mirabelle immediately stormed away from the group, heading straight for King Marion. The people parted as she approached.

  “Iskandor, please bring Derrick to Tam,” I said.

  “Tam? What does he have to do with this?” Derrick asked.

  “He was the cult leader here,” I answered. “He set us up. I need you to question him.”

  Derrick’s face was flushed with anger—it was a look rarely seen on the big man’s face. Shedding his usual joking manner, his demeanor became serious. “Got it.” He and Iskandor left and entered the castle.

  Meanwhile, Mirabelle grabbed Marion by the throat and slammed him against the nearest pillar. “Bastard!” She snarled.

  “Um … perhaps this isn’t the most prudent way to deal with this conundrum …” Timor muttered softly.

  “Put him down, Lady Mirabelle,” a voice calmly said. “Believe me when I tell you, he will pay for his crimes.”

  His gray hair all resided in the back of his head, none on top. He had a well-groomed, medium-length beard
, and he had brown eyes, with lines around them that showed off his age. A determined air surrounded him, an attitude that did not seem to be shared by some of those who walked with him.

  Mirabelle dropped Marion back down on his throne. Emphasis on dropped. The rat landed with a thud.

  “Chancellor Gerodi,” Marion said with a sneer when he had recovered. “I’d thought I’d seen the last of you and your ridiculous council.”

  “The Council has existed before there was ever a king on the throne, King Marion,” Gerodi stated, and his voice had a deep, gruff quality to it. “You cannot get rid of us, no matter how hard you try—and trying to pretend like we don’t exist will not work either.”

  “Don’t spout your self-righteous garbage at me, Gerodi,” Marion said, glaring down defiantly at the chancellor. “The Council exists only to hold myself, and therefore my country, down, unable to reach our true potential.”

  “On the contrary, Your Highness,” Gerodi replied, speaking almost casually, “the Council exists to work together with the king and help this country prosper, to help it bloom like the first flowers of spring. Unfortunately, under your rule, Longchester wilts like an old plant in a basement room with no windows.”

  “And I suppose you see yourself as the life-saving sun, don’t you, Chancellor?” Marion said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “If you are truly the sun, you only serve to blind us all as to our true purpose.”

  Chancellor Gerodi smiled lightly. “Enough bandying of metaphors, Your Majesty—we are being distracted from our true reason for coming forward. And that reason is very simple—to remove you from the throne.”