Glanen perked up at that.
“You have my sincerest thanks,” he said, giving her a polite, yet terribly awkward half-bow. A piece of one of his bracers splintered and dug into him as he came back up, causing him to grimace and suck in a shaky breath.
“Did that hurt?” Aasimah asked, smirking.
The knight turned beet red.
“As a matter of fact, yes, it did.”
As it turned out, Glanen really had no idea what he was looking for, after all. With absolutely no information to go off of, he and Aasimah had been forced to improvise – and rather poorly. They'd stuck to the quieter, less populated streets on the far corners of Aranaot, and much to Glanen's surprise – and dismay – the knight's presence wasn't exactly well-received by those on the lower rungs of Dinavhek's societal ladder.
“I never knew this area existed,” he said more than once, as Aasimah led him down streets of dilapidated houses.
Aasimah had nothing to say to that confession, not the first time, and certainly not every time afterward. She almost wanted to say “of course you knew!” because in her experience, that was likely to be true; the nobility always knew, they just turned a blind eye to that which they did not find pleasant to look at.
Almost.
Until she considered Glanen's abundant innocence and realized that it could very well be the case that he had never visited these parts of Aranaot. If he was as sheltered as the prince – which Aasimah believed to be true – then it wasn't so much that he was being actively lied to as it was that his father was keeping the uglier realities of Dinavhene life to himself.
She regarded her companion as they turned another corner, taking note of his childlike expressions. This was a whole new world to him, one he was almost overly eager to experience.
But Aasimah would not be satisfied with only exploring the capital city. For one thing, she doubted that they would actually find any serious answers so close to home. She found it more likely that Sir Konrad would conduct his shadier business well outside the city limits, as he would not want to arouse suspicion within the ruling family. Additionally, if there were some sort of physical secret to uncover, he would want it as far away from his son as possible.
“You know we're not going to be able to stick around here forever, right?” she asked Glanen as he stopped to wring a sour-smelling liquor from his shirt. Things hadn't gone particularly well in the last tavern they'd visited.
If he'd just listened to me about changing out of his armor earlier and wearing something more casual, he probably wouldn't be covered in filth right now, Aasimah thought.
“I think I've got most of it out,” he said, flashing her a brief smile. He gave his shirt a sniff and jerked his head back.
“Face it, that shirt's ruined.”
The knight shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose it doesn't matter much, anyway.”
Aasimah shook her head.
“I'm serious, Glanen. We can't stay here, and I'm not talking about just this street.”
“What are you saying?”
“I mean that we're going to have to leave Aranaot.”
The knight appeared crestfallen.
“Leave Aranaot? But we've already spent so much time out here! How far out were you planning on taking us?”
“However far it takes us. You don't really think that your father's going to keep all his secrets so close to home, do you? And if there is some sort of grand conspiracy against the prince, don't you think his allies would want to hide their activities as well?”
She seemed to be winning him over. She could almost see the wheels turning in Glanen's mind as he thought carefully about what she said. Aasimah took advantage of his uncertainty to push her point forward.
“Don't forget: You're the one that sought me out. Dinavhek is your country, not mine. I don't know my way around here any better than you do – less so, in fact.”
“And yet, you seemed pretty sure of yourself when you brought me here.”
“Because I've been in places like this before. My people are nomadic by nature. Sure, we avoided civilization as much as we could, but we still had to pass through towns every now and then. After a while, these types of streets all start looking the same to you.”
The knight looked at her – no, to her, with a new sense of appreciation.
“You've had such a hard life,” he said, his voice laced with sympathy.
Aasimah wondered if perhaps he'd managed to sneak a drink or two during one of their 'adventures.' Her eyes narrowed, and she wondered if he might be playing her somehow, but all she found when she looked into his eyes was the same simple, dopey, unflinchingly earnest Glanen she'd always known.
“Isn't that why you dragged me along on this quest of yours?”
“Dragged you along?” the knight asked, seeming hurt.
“It's not like I haven't gotten my own enjoyment out of this,” Aasimah said, hardly believing in her own instinct to comfort him, “seeing you get showered in spoiled booze was pretty satisfying. It almost makes up for all the 'adventures' you've put me through.”
“Then I guess this afternoon wasn't such a waste!”
Aasimah couldn't resist smiling at that – really smiling. “Now, if only we could get the prince in on this, then it'll all be even! Ugh, you sure do stink, though! Look, I'm willing to go further if you are. Just stay downwind, all right?”
“But why should I keep all of the fun to myself?” Glanen asked. Rather suddenly, his expression changed from one of absolute dejection to a look of pure mischief. Aasimah, who had already turned around and started to walk away, found herself suddenly engulfed in what had to have been the smelliest, most disgusting bear hug she'd ever received.
Her first instinct was to kick, bite, and punch her way out of it. In fact, she'd done one of those things already, sinking her teeth into Glanen's forearm before realizing that it was indeed her companion whose arms were wrapped around her, and not some stranger hoping to get the jump on them.
The knight yelped and pulled back.
“I yield!” he cried.
Aasimah merely stood there, hunched over, panting from her efforts to break free of his embrace. When she'd recovered enough to look up at him, she noticed a rather odd expression on his face. Was it fear? No, not quite... but it was close. He definitely looked alarmed and confused. She looked over her shoulder, thinking maybe there was someone behind her.
But he wasn't looking at anyone else, he was looking at her.
“What?” she snapped.
“I – it's nothing,” he stuttered. “I thought I saw something, that's all.”
“Well, what, then—?”
SHRIIIEEEEK!
Aasimah whirled around – clumsily so, as she ended up hopping on one foot to avoid toppling over. Glanen reached out a hand to steady her, catching her before she could fall.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
“That horrible scream? Nah, I didn't hear a thing!” Aasimah snapped.
“We must follow it!”
Glanen had already taken off, dashing through the streets without a second thought as to his own safety. He did, however, stop before turning the corner to look back at Aasimah. She saw him hesitate, torn in his duties to protect both her and whomever it was that might be in trouble. In that single moment, she saw the conflict play out as his face twisted with concern.
“Go ahead, I'll catch up,” she called, answering his unspoken question.
Just like that, the knight disappeared.
***
He found himself back on a street that he and Aasimah had gone through earlier in the day. It did not take Glanen very long to reach the source of that terrified scream, but what he found when he arrived chilled the young knight to the bone.
A group of men rampaged through the lower streets of Aranaot, slicing their way through unfortunate civilians. Glanen marveled at just how quiet the whole spectacle seemed and understood, with a sinking feeling, that it was s
o quiet because none of the slaughtered commonfolk had a chance to scream.
Their murderers wore the intricate leather armor that the elves were known for producing, and they moved with a surprising level of grace. Glanen, who stood out in the open for all the world to see, merely stared dumbfounded at the scene unfolding before him.
At least, that's what he was doing, before someone elbowed him roughly in his side.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” Aasimah snapped.
“I – what – I don't—!”
Aasimah rolled her eyes and shoved him over to a broken wall.
“Get down before one of them sees you,” she whispered.
“I have to help them!”
Glanen began to rise, but Aasimah grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back.
“Don't be stupid, you're wearing your training armor! They'll cut through you like butter!”
The knight pulled away from her.
Aasimah opened her mouth to protest further, but the knight held up his hand, effectively silencing her. “I am a knight, and it is my duty to protect the people!”
They faced off against each other, and for a moment, Glanen thought he might succumb to the sheer intensity of Aasimah's stare. Her face was utterly expressionless, and the knight found it impossible to read her.
“Fine” she said slowly. “If you're going to go get a sword stuck in your face, then I suppose I'll have to do something, too.”
She looked around, taking in their environment. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of a small group of children huddled underneath a carriage. To their credit, they were smart enough to keep themselves quiet and stay low to the ground.
“All right, I'm going to start getting people out of here.”
Glanen paled.
“You'll be putting yourself at risk.”
“I know.”
“After what happened last time—”
“Don't remind me!”
Glanen bit his lip. “Can you get to the Academy from here?”
“Yes, I can!”
“Then bring them there!”
Aasimah nodded. Glanen made a run for it, leaving the safety of their hiding space behind in hopes that the raiders would target him instead of her. If he could just distract them long enough for her to get any of the survivors left to safety... there was no time to think about that now!
“You think you're a big man, don't you?” Glanen shouted as he rushed up to the nearest attacker.
Before the man could react, Glanen lashed out, landing a solid kick to his knee and bringing him down. He didn't give the man time to answer him, opting to end his life with a clean thrust of his sword right then and there. The knight could be performative for the commonfolk when the situation warranted it, but there was no time for theatrics now.
He turned just in time to take down another assailant, slicing the man's throat as he whipped past him.
“Would closing my eyes make this a a little fairer?” Glanen taunted as another came up to him.
This one put up more of a fight, having been alerted to the knight's presence beforehand. He was still no match for the raw skill Glanen possessed. The knight downed him in a matter of seconds before moving on to two more of them. They were a tad more skilled than the opponents before them, and Glanen found himself genuinely struggling against them for a moment, but they too fell before his blade.
By now, the rest of the band were fully aware of the knight and no longer held an interest in butchering hapless civilians.
Glanen risked a glance over to the spot where he'd left Aasimah, relieved to see that she was no longer there. Though he could not afford to lose his focus long enough to actively look for her, he hoped that she was doing as she promised and leading what few survivors there were to safety.
On and on he fought, carving a path of blood, bone, and steel through the streets. To the knight's surprise, his enemies were not especially difficult to take down when compared to the common criminals he'd dealt with before. Truly, they possessed very little of the skill and grace the elves were known for.
Except for the one he now found himself locked in battle with.
This man, like Glanen, was an experienced fighter. He managed to parry every one of Glanen's moves. Evenly matched, the knight was barely able to hold out against him.
But for how long? He wondered.
How long could he keep it up? Glanen had been fighting by himself, and he felt himself growing weary. One single mistake, and that would be the end of his life. A noble end, but an end nonetheless.
Glanen caught sight of something peculiar as the man parried another blow, something that (almost) gave him pause.
On a whim, he tried something different.
No longer was his aim to dispatch his opponent. He had something else in mind.
“You – you're not –” he gritted, cut off as the man managed to land a weak kick to his side.
He grunted and held on through the pain, determined to get his answer.
The man did not say a word. He was almost unnaturally silent through it all. But, distracted as he was by Glanen's word, he did not notice that Glanen had brought his free hand up to the side of his head until it was too late.
The knight embraced him almost the way a friend might and brought his knee to his groin. It did not matter how experienced the man might be; the knight's most undignified and dishonorable had him stumbling back.
Glanen brought his boot down upon him then, crushing his wrist so that he might drop his sword. He kicked the weapon to the side and crouched over him.
“Let's see what you really are,” he huffed before yanking the man's helmet off.
As he suspected, his opponent was indeed a human man.
A human... wearing elven armor? Were all of them like him? Ridiculous as it would look to anyone that might be watching, Glanen contemplated yanking the helmets off of the rest of the fallen men and wondered if they might all be human, too.
“Where did you get this?” Glanen asked, more curious than angry at this point in time.
The man opened his mouth revealing to the knight, in his utmost horror, that he had no tongue. Before Glanen could say another word, the man's face suddenly turned into a gory mess as an arrow lodged itself just below one of his eyes. He gurgled helplessly for an agonizing few seconds, and Glanen was forced to finish him off.
“Boy!” a familiar voice called. “You'd best get up before your father gets here!”
Glanen turned around, aghast by what he'd just witnessed and finding himself overwhelmed by the sickly sweet stench of death as it assailed him from every direction. Dazed, he looked up to see his comrades riding all about him. He supposed he should be grateful that the Knighthood had mobilized, but now, he felt only confusion and disgust.
Anger, too.
Still, the young man rose. He stood tall before his glowering commander – a knight in battered armor.
“I was getting answers from that man!”
“Answers? What answers? The man had no tongue! Unless you've got some special power the rest of us don't know about, you weren't getting anything out of him!”
“General Roshan—”
“That. Is. Enough! Fall back in line, boy, or I will have words to exchange with your father.”
Glanen gave the older man a stiff half-bow and did as he was told, falling into line with the remainder of the knights. There were only a handful of his comrades currently present, each of them mounted. He found himself wishing Xanthus were here, so that he wouldn't feel quite so out of place. Then again, he wondered if the stallion's presence would make any difference, for he always felt out of place. He was just exceptionally skilled at hiding it.
“Men, start cleaning up those bodies at once,” Roshan commanded, having turned his horse around so that he was facing the group behind him.
“What about the civilians?” Glanen asked. “There are people trapped in these buildings, some of them may not be able to get back ou
t! Do you not see the state of things?”
“Do not question my leadership again, boy.”
“When are you going to stop calling me that?”
“When you stop acting like one!” Roshan nearly shouted, now thoroughly enraged by the young knight's continuing defiance. “Why are you all still standing here? Move! Now!”
Their comrades hastened away, and Glanen caught a few odd looks from some of them, mostly of smug amusement, though there was one person who seemed sympathetic. How could they not understand? Did all of these men forget the purpose of the Knighthood?
“You,” Roshan said calmly, now that the rest of the men were off to follow his orders. “You are going to just stay right there and wait for Sir Konrad. He will hear of your defiance.”
“And he will hear, too, that you refused aid to the trapped commonfolk.”
Before Glanen had time to react, Roshan's hand lashed out, curling into a fist before reaching the younger man's cheek. Strong as the older knight was, Glanen hardly felt a thing. He was too fired up to register the blow.
The betrayal had already cut right through him.
Part 4:
The Fall
Chapter 19
All That Is Left
∞∞∞
Word of the attack spread like wildfire among commonfolk and aristocrats alike. Within days, every citizen of Dinavhek, from the lowest peasant to the highest ranking councilman knew of the strange battle and the Knighthood's failure to come to the people's aid.
The reputation of the Knighthood declined sharply among the commonfolk, as those who were left to dig themselves out from the rubble began to voice their discontent. Soon, there were mobs of protesters filling the streets of Aranaot.
At first, lower ranking members of the Knighthood were sent out to calm and reassure the masses; they would later return to their families covered in expired food, liquor, and on one occasion, goat feces. The people of Dinavhek were fed up and the Knighthood had at last fallen out of favor with the commonfolk. The streets of Aranaot were no longer safe for the likes of the royal family – or for their visitors.
Due to the disruption of her visit, Lady Kharqa was invited to stay in the Dinavhene royal palace for a few weeks longer, or at least until the riots died down enough for her to safely travel back out to Takirar, and she happily accepted the King's invitation.
Dinavhek- The Fall Page 21