Betrayal

by Jon Kiln

  Nisero looked over the King’s back to see that Berengar was looking at him as well. It appeared that neither of them much liked hearing Caffrey’s words from the King’s lips. Nisero wasn’t sure if Berengar was thinking it too, but the lieutenant wondered if Caffrey wasn’t one of those dark men from time to time. At the very least, the King was referring to men like him.

  “What was the other type of meeting, your majesty?” Arianne asked sweetly.

  The King tilted his head up toward the sky and tilted his gaze. “Well, I suppose in the same regard, some woman are the type you meet in the palace and some are the type you don’t. As I have grown older, I have had fewer of either type of meeting.”

  That made Nisero feel a little better that the King was not connected to Caffrey at the present.

  The King did add. “At my age, you just bring everyone into the palace and send them on their way when the business is done. This sort of slinking about is the game of younger men.”

  “I would agree with that,” Berengar chuckled.

  The King led them around the side and to a door at the back corner of the inn. He gave a knock that was in such an odd pattern that Nisero knew it must be a code. The door jerked open and Nisero dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword. A grizzled man leaned out. He was backlit from fire through the grates in the oven. The man had scars on his face that rivaled Berengar. The stains on his apron overlapped one another.

  The man eyed each of them, but then lighted his eyes on the King and kept his attention there. “This is not how we are supposed to do this.”

  King Ramael took a step forward and stared straight into the man’s face. Nisero spotted Berengar’s hand moving to the handle of his blade as well. The King said, “But this is how we are doing it. I need to come in with my friends and I need to be undisturbed for the night.”

  “I’m done cooking and I’m sleepy.”

  “We will eat whatever you have to offer.”

  “I haven’t had a payment in a while.” The man stood up straight, filling the doorway. “I thought this arrangement was over.”

  “Your payment is my continued appreciation.”

  The man snorted and looked away. “I can’t spend appreciation. I can’t eat it either.”

  “You will taste and pay for it, if my appreciation is ever lifted, I assure you.”

  The man’s stance and expression changed a fraction, but it was enough that Nisero noticed. He stepped aside and pulled the warped door on its hinges. “I’ll cook together something. We’re busy tonight, so service will be slow.”

  The King showed his acceptance of the terms by walking inside and the other three followed. The man turned his face away as the last of them past. “Did you swim here through a pig sty? What is that smell? Don’t get that in my walls or furniture.”

  The King led them into a furnished parlor and closed the doors. He lit candles and then pulled the shades on windows. There was another set of doors at the far end of the room, and through the crack between, Nisero saw the light from the next room interrupted by shapes passing. Voices rose in a ruckus. Nisero wondered why these able bodied men were not on the front defending their kingdom and what they had to celebrate so loudly in such trying times. The King pulled the two doors tighter together and affixed the latch.

  He dropped into a chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. The King’s eyes drifted closed. “Wake me when that sour man brings me what ever rump of beast he has cooked up.”

  “Do we want to discuss our next move for the morning?” Berengar asked as he inspected the room.

  “I am exhausted,” the King said. “Perhaps, we rest a while and then discuss later.”

  “As you wish, your majesty.”

  The captain and the other two sat down as well. Nisero felt his muscles nearly melt into the chair once he was off his feet. It felt like a mistake, but he let his eyes close too.

  The food never came. They were sleeping and did not notice the silence set over the inn.

  Chapter 17: The Man on the Left

  Nisero’s eyes slid open. He stared at the light through the crack between the far doors for a long time. It was different from the light before. It was a brighter and pure white, where the light slipping through when they arrived was muted and wavering, like light used for doing unsavory things in secret. The light that blazed through the latched doors was morning sunshine. The lieutenant also noted that this light was punctuated by silence instead of the clamorous celebration from the night previous.

  He slowly dawned to the fact that they had set no guards and slept through the night closed in their secluded parlor. No one had entered, left, nor checked on them. This was an unusual arrangement the King had with this private suite, and Nisero had no desire to know the details of the types of dealings the King had engaged in while here in the past. Having no one care to see that he needed anything for the whole night bothered him.

  He brought himself up to standing, and Captain Berengar startled awake where he leaned on the arm of another chair. He staggered up to his feet with more noise than the lieutenant and had his hand upon his sword trying to regain his bearings.

  “What?” the captain barked. His voice echoed off the walls and rang off something metal out in the main room. It was a quality of sound that Nisero had come to associate with abandoned castles. He listened and still no one came to check upon the King.

  King Ramael and Arianne stirred from Berengar’s outburst. The King said, “I am starved. Did food not arrive?”

  “It is morning, I think,” Nisero whispered.

  The King stood slowly and stretched. “I’m too old to sleep in chairs. What are you listening to, lieutenant?”

  “I am listening to nothing, and that is what I am hearing.”

  “Do you sense danger in that?” Berengar asked.

  “I’ve been surrounded by danger for too long to sense anything else. But, yes, I sense danger.”

  The King turned and walked to the far doors. He worked the latch and took hold of them to pull them apart.

  “Your majesty, wait,” Berengar whispered.

  The King paused and said, “My greatest joy in finally leaving that cursed tower is in opening doors when I feel like it.” The King slid the doors apart, dazzling everyone’s eyes with the harsh morning light pouring in through the front windows, over filthy tables and half finished mugs of ale. “My next joy will be putting what is left of Marlex into one just like it.”

  Berengar and Nisero stepped out into the main room looking ahead of the King. Berengar stepped over an overturned chair as he approached the front of the inn. Nisero reached down and righted it. He looked into four nearly full tankards on the table left unfinished. The lieutenant tried to imagine a scenario where the men he heard through the doors last night would leave even the poorest quality drinks on a table unfinished. He could come up with nothing.

  The King stepped out into the mouth of the hallway that led back into the kitchen. “Hello?”

  His voice gave that same empty echo that brought up uncomfortable memories for Nisero. “We’ve been left alone in here for a reason.”

  Berengar reached the window. “Oh no.”

  He dropped to the floor and turned his back to the base of the wall. An arrow shattered the glass and embedded in the wall above Arianne’s head. Glass broke at the back of the inn.

  Nisero charged backwards, knocking over the chair he had righted. He took hold of the King’s shoulders and moved him into the alcove behind the bar. As they went down on their knees, Nisero said, “Arianne, take cover back in the parlor.”

  For once, she complied and disappeared back into the open doors.

  Voices sounded from the kitchen but Nisero could not make out the words. He shouted at them. “You approach up this hallway and I will geld you for your trouble. Who cares to be first?”

  He heard shuffling feet, but no one answered from that direction with voice or approach.

  Someone outside called ou
t. “Captain Berengar and Lieutenant Nisero, we know you and your people are in there alone. Alone means if we have to burn the place down around you, we can. Come out and surrender yourselves and everyone with you. This is your only chance to face trial alive instead of execution on the spot.”

  Nisero heard feet moving again from the kitchen and he prepared for battle. Then, he realized they were retreating and he heard the door close. That filled him with a sense of real dread. Time was running out.

  Arianne called from the parlor. “Dreth?”

  “Commander Dreth,” Berengar hollered, “you do not know the full story. We act on behalf of the King and against those trying to take the kingdom through deception.”

  “I do not care about your defense,” Dreth yelled back. “I have my orders from the crown. They are not up for discussion.”

  “Curse Marlex to his dark core,” the King breathed out behind Nisero.

  “Your wife and unborn child are in here,” Berengar yelled. “Do not set us ablaze.”

  “For the sake of your daughter and unborn grandson,” Dreth said, “come forth.”

  The King stood and stepped out around Nisero. The lieutenant tried to grab him, but Ramael was past him. He stepped into the parlor and then back out with the crown clutched in his hands. He placed it upon his head as he crossed the room. Berengar saw the King approach the front door and reach for the handles. The captain scrambled along the floor trying to stay below the windows. The King held out an open hand in Captain Berengar’s direction.

  King Ramael pushed the handles and swung the doors wide. Nisero gritted his teeth waiting for the King to be struck down.

  The King shouted with a strong, commanding voice. “I am King Ramael, the rightful ruler of this land. Do you recognize me and my authority, Commander Dreth?”

  There was a long stretch of silence deeper than the tomb-like sounds of the purposely abandoned inn.

  Finally, Dreth replied. “I do, your majesty. We were not told you were being held. Step out here, if you can, and we will handle those left inside.”

  “Those inside are the ones that are loyal to me, commander. They have risked their lives to protect me from a plot to take my life and to steal my throne. Are you loyal to me, commander?”

  Dreth answered immediately. “Of course, your majesty.”

  “Then trust me when I say that you have been lied to, as well as some of your superiors who sent you here. Choose two of your men that you trust and come inside. Leave the rest of your force out and stand down.”

  The King stepped away from the door. He pulled out a chair at one of the filthy tables and sat down. Nisero rose up and stepped around the bar, not wanting to hide while the King sat exposed in the open. Berengar crawled away from the windows and stood as well. Arianne stepped out into the doorway of the parlor under the arrow in the wall.

  Commander Dreth and two men in regular army garb stepped in through the open door. Every man in the room that possessed a sword had his hand upon it. Dreth’s eyes stayed upon Arianne’s face and his jaw was set.

  “Everyone, stand down,” the King demanded.

  Hands and bodies remained tense, but moved away from swords.

  “Why are you here, your majesty?” queried Dreth.

  “I was waylaid in my own palace by my cousin Marlex and dishonorable nobles that would take power that is not theirs. The murder of the prince of the east, the Elite Guard, the false accusations against these brave men and woman, and the coming war with the east were all chaos meant to cover the evil plan. Berengar, Nisero, and your wife mounted a daring rescue that took me from Marlex’s foul clutches.”

  Dreth looked around the room. His eyes lingered on Arianne before returning to the King. “I had no idea, your majesty. We were told our orders came directly from you. Your enemies are using your own army against you, my King.”

  “What were your orders which brought you here to burn us down, Commander Dreth?” the King asked.

  Dreth cast his eyes to the floor as he spoke. “We were pulled away from the march to the border, myself and a double unit. We were told first to return to the capital to search for enemies of the crown. Then, we were sent to patrol the land. The report came that Berengar and Nisero were here along with men that had joined in their plot against the kingdom.”

  The King looked around the room and back at Dreth. “Can I count on you and your men to join me now in settling this?”

  “Of course.” Dreth stood straighter. “I serve you, the rightful King, and my men answer to me.”

  “Are there others that might be swayed to defy the false orders they have been given, and join us in an assembled force to displace my enemies?”

  Dreth looked at the men on both sides of him and back to the King. “If you act quickly, perhaps. There are a number of patrols outside the city as we were. They will be out of contact from the false chain of command. We can approach them one by one and assemble a growing force. The city has not been locked down. We can enter before our numbers are known. We can convince those that are willing to listen and dispatch those that are not.”

  “That sounds like a plan, commander. I am promoting you in the field to General Dreth. All the army we assemble will answer to your command and mine as we retake the palace.”

  Arianne stepped out of the parlor and approached her husband. His eyes flicked in her direction. She pulled up short and stepped closer to the King.

  Dreth nodded. “We need to get you to safety, your majesty.”

  “There is no such place until this is won. And I must be at the front of this mission.”

  “Your majesty,” Berengar said, “with respect, kings leading armies into battle is the stuff of children’s stories and the ancient days before modern tactics. If you were to be slain in battle, this whole thing would be undone.”

  “Captain, I appreciate your concerns, believe me. But the only reason General Dreth is with us now is that he saw me and believed. That will be the only currency we have to assemble the other patrols. I agree that I must live, so you will just have to see to it that I am not slain. You and Lieutenant Nisero are all that is left of my Elite Guard sworn to protect me.”

  “We will all protect you and bring you back to the throne that belongs to you, your majesty,” Dreth assured.

  “To that, General,” the King said, “there are surely men among your forces that have been quietly charged with not letting me step forth from this building. We will need to weed them out of your ranks.”

  Dreth opened his mouth to speak, but the man on his left drew his dagger and charged. Arianne jumped in front of King Ramael, and Dreth reached out at her screaming, “No!”

  Nisero drew his sword and lunged off balance past the King, swinging up and across. Berengar drew and dove in from the side. Nisero’s blade sliced through the extended hand holding the dagger, taking off fingers and spinning the short blade aside just short of connecting with Arianne’s abdomen.

  Berengar’s blade crossed the man’s throat from point to hilt as the soldier’s momentum brought him forward into the sharp edge. Berengar’s weight slammed into the man’s side, knocking him away and dragging him over the blade a second time as he fell from the hilt off the point.

  The man collapsed to his back on the floor, gripping his own throat with his one remaining good hand. He coughed and gurgling as he writhed there, but then fell still.

  Dreth looked at the man on his right who responded, “I am loyal to the King, General Dreth.”

  Dreth reached down and took the dead soldier by the collar. Dreth looked up at Nisero. “I thank you for saving my wife and the King, but I still do not like you, lieutenant.”

  Nisero lowered his sword, but did not respond.

  Dreth dragged the body along the floor to the front doors, leaving a bloody smear out onto the steps where he dropped the fresh body for the men to see.

  “We have been lied to and there is a conspiracy afoot!” shouted Dreth. “King Ramael has called upon
all of us to retake the capital from the deceitful men that hold it, and dare to threaten the very life of the rightful King. This man here answered to them and raised his hand against the King. As with all traitors, it cost him his head. The same price will be demanded of all who rise against the true King. We have been called upon to exact this price on the traitors. Choose now on whose side you will stand.”

  The cry went up throughout the double unit, save for the man lying upon the steps. “Long live the King!”

  Chapter 18: The War Within

  Nisero saluted as he approached. “We are ready to move, General Dreth. Our scouts are inside and hold the main gate.”

  “Will you give us a moment, lieutenant?”

  Nisero looked over and saw Dreth was standing with Arianne. Nisero had preferred that she stay behind somewhere, but he had no idea where that safe place might be, so she was with them at the walls of the capital.

  The King’s sons and grandsons had been located by loyal troops and word had reached them. The stronghold they held in the northern hills was too far to try to send Arianne now. It was a good secluded spot which was part of the reason Berengar had chosen the region for his retirement.

  Nisero saw Dreth and Arianne staring at him. The lieutenant said, “Of course, General. We are ready upon your command.”

  Nisero stepped away from the couple and moved back over beside Captain Berengar.

  “They can’t work that out after the battle?” Berengar asked.

  Nisero looked back at them exchanging words he could not hear, in rapid succession. He turned his attention back on the gate looking for any signs of trouble. “If you or I had an understanding of how to handle the battles involving the needs of women, we would probably lead very different lives, sir.”

  “Speak for yourself, lieutenant.”

  Nisero smiled. “Of course, sir. I’ll just say I am glad that part of today’s battle belongs to the newly minted general.”