The Emperor's Guard

by Kevin Hopson

  “That went well,” she said.

  “He’ll have our heads on a spike if he ever finds out the truth.” Owin shook his head.

  “What?”

  “Our plan was to force their hand. Make them come to us. But now Berian will likely march on them.”

  “What’s it matter? Either way, we can finally end this.”

  “There’s been enough bloodshed as it is. I’d rather not have more.”

  “Then what do you propose?”

  “I suggest we send the raven.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Colum’s idea turned out to be a good one. The plan wasn’t without its flaws, though. For one thing, the three men had a head start on them, and they could have gone one way while Asgall and Colum went the other. Fortunately, Asgall spotted the trio a short distance from the tavern, he and Colum using the crowded street as a means of concealing their pursuit. The second issue came when the men split off. Asgall felt the lead man, the one who voiced his displeasure at the tavern, should be their priority, so Asgall chose to pursue him.

  # # #

  Asgall suggested that Colum follow one of the other men. He told the soldier to have his pick of the two and to stick with him. They would meet back at the palace afterward. Asgall weaved his way through a labyrinth of side streets, squares, and alleyways, making his way to the edge of the city. The crowd thinned considerably here, and there were few trees to move between, so Asgall put his back to a building and craned his neck around the corner. The man glanced over his shoulder before entering a single-story dwelling. But it wasn’t his house.

  # # #

  Bedo Voiles resided there, and Asgall didn’t care much for him. He often associated himself with thugs, criminals, and other low-lifes. Though Bedo had never been found guilty of breaking the law, Asgall trusted his gut, and instinct convinced him that Bedo was caught up in a number of scandalous activities. Which meant the visiting man was likely no better. Asgall wrestled with the notion of approaching the house. If he left, the two might be gone by the time he returned. Asgall let out a breath, mulling it over. He finally made a decision. One he hopefully wouldn’t regret.

  # # #

  Crouched below a window, Asgall put an ear to the house. He heard the scuffing of chairs as the men seated themselves, voices escalating soon after.

  “Commander Boyd and one of his men stopped by the tavern earlier,” the man said. “Mentioned somethin’ about a big fella with a thick beard. He one of your men?”

  A pause. Perhaps a nod or a shake of the head by Bedo, but Asgall couldn’t tell.

  “He left this morning,” Bedo finally said.

  “They were askin’ Gille about him.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He either didn’t know nothin’ or he wasn’t talkin’.”

  # # #

  Once again, Asgall had a decision to make. As much as he preferred to have Colum by his side, there was little he could do. Asgall continued to crouch as he moved toward the front door, remaining below the windows and out of sight. Unfortunately, there were four wooden steps leading up to the door, and none of them appeared particularly sturdy given their weathered condition. Asgall wasn’t worried about the boards supporting his weight. However, the creaking they might create did concern him. Asgall took a chance. He rested a boot on the bottom step, and the board moaned.

  # # #

  “What was that?” Asgall heard Bedo ask. “Were you followed?”

  Before the man could answer, Asgall kicked the bottom of his boot against the door, the wood splintering and coming off its hinges. When Asgall pushed the door open, Bedo and the man were seated at the table. Bedo faced him from the far side of the table while the man, who was closer to Asgall, had turned his head to look. Both stared back with wide eyes. Asgall wrapped his fingers around the handle of his dagger, quickly pulling it from its sheath. Bedo went for his own knife.

  # # #

  Before Asgall could move on them, Bedo had already clutched the man’s arm and pulled him close, holding the blade to his throat. If Bedo’s intent was to use the man as a hostage, it wouldn’t sway Asgall much. As far as he was concerned, they were both traitors. Bedo might have been thinking the same. To Asgall’s surprise, Bedo glided the knife from one side of the man’s neck to the other, blood squirting from the severed arteries. He threw the limp body to the ground and then turned the blade on himself, thrusting it deep into his chest.

  # # #

  Asgall gradually made his way back to the palace. He replayed the events over and over again in his head, accidentally bumping into people and taking wrong turns as shock set in. It consumed Asgall and clouded his thinking, blocking out everything in his path. When he finally arrived at the palace, Colum was situated outside as if he were waiting on Asgall the entire time.

  Colum’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay, sir?”

  Asgall took a moment to compose himself. He nodded. “The man I followed is dead. So is Bedo Voiles. We need to speak to the Emperor immediately.”

  # # #

  “It’s true then,” the Emperor said as Asgall and Colum stood before him in the throne room. “We still have enemies within our walls.”

  “We always have,” Asgall said, “and always will, Your Highness. Unfortunately, it comes with ruling. But, yes, members of the Res remain.”

  “And what about the assailant from last evening?”

  “We still don’t know who he is or whether he escaped the city. Only that he intended to leave this morning.”

  A knock at the door interrupted, and Asgall turned to look.

  “My apologies, Your Highness,” a guard said with the door ajar. “A message has arrived.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  I took a sacred oath to protect the Emperor from all enemies, including those from within. I didn’t take that vow lightly, yet I found myself breaking it. Ironically, I became one of those enemies I had sworn to keep at bay. While I can fault others for misleading me, I have only myself to blame. That being said, not a day goes by that I don’t regret my actions. Others share my remorse as well, which is why I am writing you. Our treachery can never be forgiven, but perhaps we can find peace before our final day comes.

  # # #

  “Who’s it from?” Colum asked.

  “It’s signed by Owin Kemble,” Asgall said.

  “Owin Kemble?” the Emperor inquired.

  Asgall knew him well. He considered Owin to be one of his best men. That is until the mutiny began. Hindsight had a way of torturing people, Asgall included. Some of the conspirators possessed unique traits or personalities, things that Asgall could tie back to their treachery. But Owin was different. He was loyal, obedient, and, despite his massive build, a gentle man.

  “Yes,” Asgall reiterated. “He wants to meet.”

  The Emperor rose. “Where?”

  “A cabin. On the edge of the Niverborg Forest.”

  # # #

  “Odds are it’s a trap,” Colum said.

  Asgall nodded. “It could very well be.”

  “You mentioned to me earlier that you wanted to send a scouting party to Niverborg Forest,” the Emperor said.

  “It was my plan, Your Highness,” Asgall said. “However, I believe that strategy would be ill-advised. Plus, he wants to meet alone.”

  Colum raised an eyebrow. “You’re going, sir?”

  “I’d like to hear him out.”

  “Please allow me to accompany you. He’ll never know I’m there.”

  Asgall placed a hand on Colum’s shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be leaving you in command while I’m gone.”

  # # #

  The sun had just cleared the horizon, and Asgall slogged along as the moist, loose ground tried its best to hinder his pace. Owin said he would only get one chance to meet, and that
day was today. He would be there in the morning, early on, and couldn’t make any promises otherwise, so Asgall didn’t risk it. He set out in darkness, just before dawn. Asgall spotted the tree line where the forest met the valley, the cabin coming into view. It was no ordinary cabin, though. It was an old legion outpost, no longer used by Southwallow’s army.

  # # #

  Asgall neared the cabin, a hint of light escaping one of the windows as he approached. A candle flickered beyond the glass. Then a shadow appeared, moving across the interior. The door let out a whimper as it opened, and a behemoth of a man stood in the entranceway. Asgall squinted at first, the man’s heavy beard and shoulder-length hair throwing him off. However, when he noticed those deep-set eyes, Asgall couldn’t mistake him. It was Owin. Owin stepped aside so Asgall could pass, the door slamming behind him only seconds later. When Asgall spun around, someone else stared back.

  # # #

  “Nesta?” Asgall said.

  The woman nodded. “It’s good to see you again, Commander.”

  Asgall turned to Owin and opened his mouth to speak.

  “It’s okay,” Owin said. “I know I told you we’d meet alone, but she’s part of this. We’re not here to harm you. Just the opposite, in fact.”

  Asgall took some comfort in that, assuming it was true. Since its inception hundreds of years ago, Nesta had been the only female member of the Guard. She could hold her own against any man, including Owin.

  “He speaks the truth,” Nesta said. “And there are others like us.”

  # # #

  “Tell me why I’m here,” Asgall said, examining the cabin’s interior.

  The cottage was crude, a single table situated in the center and four wooden chairs surrounding it. A small nook with a countertop, much like a tavern bar, had been built into the back of the cabin. It used to hold weapons, but the space was completely bare now.

  “You read the message the raven sent,” Owin said.

  “Of course.”

  “Then you know our position.”

  “Meaning what? You want to be welcomed back to Southwallow?”

  Owin shook his head. “We’re not under any illusions. We only want your word.”

  # # #

  “We want to be left alone,” Owin elaborated.

  “Until one of you showed up in Southwallow recently,” Asgall said, “we had no intentions of pursuing the Res. If we wanted to hunt all of you down, the Emperor would have done so already. Be thankful he’s a fair man.”

  “The one who showed his face in Southwallow was me,” Owin said. Asgall couldn’t muster a response. “It was a plan of ours. Nesta thought that if we could draw you out, we could defeat Berian and his men together.”

  “Berian’s the one in charge?”

  “Yes,” Nesta replied. “He played us.”

  # # #

  News of Berian didn’t surprise Asgall. The man had always been jealous of Asgall’s rank as commander, feeling the title should belong to him instead. Berian led the mutiny, but Asgall wasn’t certain if he survived the assault. Now he knew.

  “You want me to believe you were brainwashed?” Asgall asked.

  “We’re not justifying our actions,” Nesta said. “It was our choice after all, but we’re willing to make up for our transgressions.”

  “I fear Berian will try to move on Southwallow soon,” Owin said, “which will only lead to more death. We’ll kill him in exchange for our freedom.”

  # # #

  Asgall took a moment to ponder. “The Emperor has the final say, so I can’t give you my word.” Nesta’s lips parted as if preparing a rebuttal. “But I can tell you this,” Asgall continued. “He’s been merciful thus far, and your plan would help rid us of a problem, so I believe he would consider your offer.”

  “Owin! Nesta!” A man’s voice from outside. “You both have disappointed me.”

  Asgall dropped to a knee while Owin crouched behind the table. Nesta slid along the floor, keeping low as she put an eye to the window.

  “It’s Berian,” she said.

  # # #

  “Was this part of your plan?” Asgall asked.

  “Hardly,” Nesta replied.

  “Give yourselves up,” Berian shouted. “You, too, Commander. My men have the cabin surrounded.”

  “Is that accurate?” Asgall inquired.

  “As far as I can tell,” Nesta said.

  “How many?”

  “I can’t see the entire perimeter, but probably a dozen or so. Berian and his circle of true followers by the looks of it.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Broadswords and bows.”

  “Armor?”

  “Breastplates.” Nesta glanced at Asgall, then Owin. “Get down!”

  Before Asgall could act, both of the windows shattered, flaming arrows whizzing past his head. Within seconds, the fire began to spread.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Asgall’s eyes and throat burned, and he could barely see Owin and Nesta through the smoke. He cupped a hand over his mouth, pressing his palm against his lips, but the irritants had already invaded Asgall’s body. His lungs spasmed, and a coughing fit soon followed. The only way out was one of the two front windows or the door to his side. Until he remembered something. Asgall got to his feet, climbing the countertop.

  “Behind here,” he shouted.

  Asgall crouched in the space and watched as Nesta cleared the counter, landing beside him. Then Owin appeared through the smoke.

  # # #

  The former outpost had a door along the floor of the recess, which was used to roll heavy demolitions to and from the cabin. Asgall wasn’t certain if they could squeeze through the space, but it was worth a try. Though smoke continued to engulf the room, the fire had been contained to the main part of the cabin. For now. Regardless, it bought him some time. Asgall’s eyes stung, so he closed them and felt around for the latch. His fingers happened upon a metal hook, and he jarred it loose from the iron ring holding it in place.

  # # #

  Nesta went first given that she was the smallest. Asgall figured if she couldn’t make it out, none of them could. He also knew that she would be exposed if successful. Since the cabin was on stilts and the door opened underneath, it was concealed to some extent but still in sight, so people standing around would definitely take notice. Nesta held a dagger in one hand, anticipating a fight immediately upon her escape. However, if she were to get stuck, she’d be a sitting duck. Asgall clutched her boots, ready to rein her back in if the situation arose.

  # # #

  Nesta’s boots slid through Asgall’s fingers, and the shouting that ensued made his stomach sink. Berian’s men had likely spotted her. Not only would Nesta have to manage a handful of soldiers on her own, but the group outside would be expecting Asgall and Owin to be next. His plan seemed to be going from bad to worse, and Asgall grinded his teeth in frustration.

  “You’re next,” he finally said to Owin.

  “I’m too big.”

  Owin was probably right, but they wouldn’t know until he tried.

  “You can make it,” Asgall said.

  “You go first. I’ll be right behind you.”

  # # #

  Asgall breached the doorway with more ease than he had anticipated. His shoulders didn’t clear the opening at first, but a turn of his torso and a different angle of approach both allowed him to glide gently to the ground. Like Nesta, he gripped a dagger as he crawled out from under the cabin. Asgall’s eyes watered, the tingling sensation dissipating only slightly. He needed his sight, though, so he fought through the cloudiness to examine the terrain. Much to Asgall’s surprise, several bodies rested along the ground in front of him, bloodied and motionless. And then he saw Nesta.

  # # #

  The woman had dispatched of five soldier
s on her own, more arriving to join the battle. Asgall didn’t see Berian, and all of the others appeared to be preoccupied with Nesta, so he quickly stood and readied himself. Nesta twirled and ducked, her hair flying through the air as she dodged swords from her adversaries, all the while delivering blow after blow to them. Her blade found the neck of one soldier, and she tugged it free only to stick it in the head of another. The sound of footsteps from behind, and Asgall turned to find Berian standing there.

  # # #

  “Wonderful,” Berian said. “We finally get to see who the better soldier is.”

  Asgall didn’t bother responding with words. They’d mean little to Berian, and the distraction would only give him the upper hand. Despite having a broadsword at his disposal, Berian slipped a smaller blade from the sheath along his belt. He wanted close-quarters combat, and Asgall was happy to oblige. Stuck between the tree line on his left and the burning cabin to the right, Asgall bent his knees and awaited Berian’s advance. The commander preferred patience, daring Berian to be impulsive and reckless. The gamble paid off.

  # # #

  Berian lunged at him with the knife, the blade moving in a half circle parallel to the ground. Asgall dodged the weapon with a quick recoil of the head, sidestepping Berian and delivering a left hook to the man’s jaw. Asgall winced as his knuckles struck bone. If the blow had hurt Berian or altered his temperament, he showed no signs of it. The man had a firm chin. Asgall owed him that much. The commander had no idea what was transpiring behind him and considered glancing over his shoulder, ultimately deciding against it, putting his faith in Nesta instead.

  # # #

  Unfortunately, some things were out of Asgall’s control. As much as he tried to focus on the task at hand, distractions were plentiful. Embers flew in Asgall’s direction as the floor of the cabin began to collapse. He glimpsed, keeping Berian in his peripheral, curious if Owin had made it out or not. Asgall’s hesitation was all Berian required to seize the advantage. He swung the blade again and, though Asgall leaned back, the commander was late to react. Berian managed to slash Asgall’s left cheek on the follow through. Asgall put a hand to his face, the stinging intensifying.