Queen of Rebels

by Karim Soliman

  ". . . taken her somewhere safe? Listen. Ben respects you, but he would not dare to undertake such an initiative if I knew him right. Though you might see the two lads different, he and Maat were like brothers, so don't expect him to betray his brother's family. Not helping them is the only favor he can do for you."

  "We are doomed if they find her first, then." Masolon bit his lower lip. "Come on, Smit, help me out. Can you think of a place in Herlog to hide in? After all, you know the village better than I do."

  "What makes you sure she is still in Herlog? The girl could be running in the woods as we speak."

  "Not a chance. The village is walled, and the gate is guarded and locked."

  "From inside." Smit wagged his finger. "If she could break away from your house, then escaping from our gate shouldn't be an issue at all."

  "It was not locked," Masolon admitted bitterly, his head low.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "The door of my house. I did not lock it."

  "Please, tell me this is a silly joke."

  "She could not go anywhere, Smit," snapped Masolon.

  "Because the village is walled?" Smit asked in disapproval, leaning forward. "What about the river?"

  Masolon wondered why that option never crossed her mind. "You think she knows where it is."

  "She doesn't a need a tour in Herlog to know about it. If she is Bermanian as she claims she—"

  Masolon did not wait for Smit to finish what he was saying and hurried to his horse outside the house. He could hear the voice of Maat's father ringing in the village. The vengeful family would spread themselves out to find the fugitive. At least, they were not after Masolon now.

  A bunch of curious men and women were standing nearby Masolon's house. They must have heard about today's events and hoped they might watch something interesting to break the routine of their dull daily life—as if being attacked by an army of armored horsemen and battering rams was not interesting enough. Soon, you may have fun, more fun than you can stomach, lackwits, Masolon wanted to tell them. They stopped blabbering upon seeing him passing through, all eyes following him as he rode past his house on his way to the hillside facing the river.

  The terrain was muddy, so following her recent footprints from his house to the hillside was not that difficult. Luckily, the tracking skills of those clueless peasants were even worse than their fighting competencies. Because of the shocking news, even he was too overwhelmed to consider trailing her tracks as an option from the start.

  He stopped his horse at the highest spot on the hillside. The river was not that wide at this area, making it possible for him to look at the opposite riverbank. But because of the green curtain of trees, there was nothing he could do but entertain his eyes with the sight of the tall pine trees of the wooded area on the other side. That is a huge area to search. On his own, he might spend days without finding her in that maze of trunks. But who might he rely on now? Ben? He and Maat were like brothers, Masolon recalled Smit's words.

  Wait, Masolon, come to your senses. Rona wanted to join her army, which was near or already besieging Subrel. Crossing to the other side of the river would be pointless. She must have swum by the riverside until she had gone past the palisade wall. Now he had to return where he had left Ted and Edd and start searching from there.

  Masolon was getting away from the river when he squinted at the three coming frames. "Ben!" Masolon slowed down his horse. "What are you doing with those two rascals?"

  Ben advanced ahead of Edd and Ted, waving to Masolon with both hands. "You have to excuse them, Masolon. They believed they were doing the right thing for their brother's parents."

  "Ben knew nothing about our folly." Edd dared to speak out. "We thought he might hinder us if we told him, so we waited until we made sure he went to his house to get some rest."

  "May you two rot in hell." Masolon held the reins of his horse. "Now out of my way."

  "Masolon." Ben even stepped right toward Masolon's horse. "We need to settle this before we stand together for another raid."

  "I may give it a thought until that raid comes," said Masolon curtly. "Now move, Ben."

  "You don't understand. A titanic horde is already approaching." Ben glanced at his mates.

  "We saw them, or probably their vanguard." Ted's hands were clasped behind his back when he advanced. "The lines of armored horsemen seemed endless."

  Perfect timing! "How far are they from our wall?" Masolon asked.

  "The vanguard halted out of our archers' range," replied Ted. "But more troops are still arriving."

  "You must hurry to defend the wall, then." Masolon gave them a wry smile. "Now if you do not mind." He nudged his horse onward, forcing them to step aside to make way for him.

  "I don't understand," Ben cried from behind Masolon. "You are not coming with us?"

  "It is not my fight anymore, kid." Masolon looked over his shoulder. "Perhaps you should take Maat's folks with you this time."

  23. GRAMUS

  Ten horses instead of four pulled each wheeled catapult. What else could Gramus do to make their march faster?

  Sending a cavalry force ahead of them was Lanark's suggestion, a desperate attempt to persuade Masolon to come to reason and surrender Rona without a fight. "He should be smart enough to settle this matter peacefully. Maybe he won a fight or even two, but eventually, he will not be able to hold this village forever." Lanark had said, and Gramus would not argue about the young lord's reasoning. But the general was also sure that Masolon would not disappoint him; the reckless bastard would ignore all peace talks and go for, surely, his last fight.

  Darrison was the one lord most opposing this march. "Not the right timing at all, General," had been his rationale. "Can't you see? It's a ploy of Di Galio's. That dog of his, Anvil, is fooling you to lure you outside Subrel." Well, the veteran lord might have a point, but Gramus was the one who talked and listened to that dog. Anvil seemed fearless, but not too foolish to risk losing his head. "What if he was right?" Gramus had told Darrison. "This rebellion is nothing if we lose our queen."

  The veteran lord had refused to allow the Skandivian mercenaries to join this raid. "We pay those warriors so much gold for the real war with Wilander, not to plunder some village." While this was definitely an understatement by Darrison about rescuing the queen, Gramus did not insist on taking Gorania's mightiest warriors with him. When the two catapults razed that wall of Herlog to the ground, Masolon would kneel and beg him to rein in his thousand knights and four thousand men-at-arms.

  The only hurdle that Gramus had not taken into consideration was the wooded area surrounding Herlog. "You will need to cut your way through the whole breadth of the woods if you take the main road," that new Commander of Archers, Payton, had pointed out. "The peripheral road is your best and only alternative."

  "But the peripheral road will bring me in the shooting range of the Herlogan archers."

  "Then send lumberjacks ahead to make a passage for the catapults through the woods, close enough to cut through a shorter distance, far enough to stay away from their archers."

  The brief conversation was enough for Gramus to make up his mind about taking that young commander with him. Fortunately, Darrison had been generous enough to let Payton leave together with fifty more archers. Maybe he would prove himself useful against Masolon's archers, Gramus had thought. He should be the best one to understand the archers' tactics.

  The red-orange rays of dusk painted the clouds when Gramus reached that passage his lumberjacks had cut through the woods, the palisade wall of Herlog in his sight. "You saved us some time, Commander," Gramus said to Payton, who was now riding next to him. "Lord Jonson wasn't that wrong about you after all."

  The good-looking commander grinned. "Their archers used fire arrows, I heard."

  Gramus did not know why on earth Payton was reminding him of that dreadful night. "Your point?"

  "We need to scout the area around our camp. If I were those Herlogans, I would h
ide a few archers in the dark woods, hoping they might set those siege engines on fire from a distance."

  Another failed attempt? Gramus could not even entertain the idea. "What else do you think I should take care of, Commander?"

  Payton's grin grew wider. "That is all for now, General."

  Gramus sent three horsemen to do what Payton had suggested. Less than an hour later, Gramus joined forces with Edmond's awaiting cavalry, the plain field separating them from the gate of the village and the woods too narrow to position all the five thousand soldiers away from the shooting range of the Herlogan archers.

  "Do not hide your knights, Captain," Gramus addressed Edmond. "Let those peasants feast their eyes with their sight."

  "I'm just avoiding compact formations, General." Edmond glanced at the walls of Herlog, as if he was afraid that a fire arrow might be soaring toward him right now. "To minimize casualties, in case we have any."

  "There will be no casualties tonight." Gramus gazed at the shadows of the watchmen standing atop the strangely torch-lit wall of Herlog. What is that bastard up to this time? Though Masolon's tricks should not do him any good in this encounter, Gramus could not simply ignore how nervous he was about being unable to predict his opponent's moves. "No one came out of that gate, begging you to leave?"

  "Not yet, General." Edmond shook his head.

  "What about a last warning, General?" Payton suggested. "If those peasants have little reason, they will buy their lives by letting Queen Rona go. We will all be back to Subrel sooner than we thought."

  "The man who leads those peasants knows no reason, Commander. He may even take our warning as weakness." Inwardly, Gramus wished Masolon would survive the catapults fireballs to resume their unfinished duel. "If you want to persuade him to talk and give up fighting, then show him how strong you are." He turned to Edmond. "Untie the horses and get the catapults ready. We attack now."

  24. MASOLON

  All the windows and doors of the Herlogan houses were shut as the horrendous boom of the catapults thundered through the whole village. Surely, those peaceful peasants had never been exposed to a horrifying night like that before.

  "What is happening, Masolon?" An old woman dared to open her shutters and ask him as he rode his horse past her house, but he ignored her as he headed to Doly's house. She might not understand if he explained to her anyway.

  Masolon dismounted and knocked on the door when he arrived at Doly's house. "Who is it?" her voice came from inside.

  "It is me, Doly."

  "Masolon?" She did not open, though. "What do you want?"

  "What is good for you and me. Would you please open this door now?"

  Doly took a while before she warily opened the door. "What are you doing here? Something happened to Father?"

  Not yet, he would tell her. If her father joined the herd of sheep defending the wall, something wrong would happen to him sooner or later.

  "Still want to undo our marriage?" He went straight for the issue he wanted to settle.

  Doly shook her head, confused. "What marriage? What on earth are you talking about at this hour? Do you have the slightest idea what is going on right now? Seriously, how is it possible you are not fighting with the men at the wall?"

  "It is not my fight any longer," he coldly said. "I am sure the men will take good care of their village."

  Doly gaped at him. "What is the matter with you? Are you simply turning your back on the people who embraced you when you came to them a stranger?"

  "Listen, Doly," Masolon snapped. "I owe nobody anything in this village. You all owe me. And all I got in return was betrayal and ungratefulness."

  "I can't believe what you are saying," Doly nervously said, shaking her head. "I can't believe you are the man I was wed to."

  "And here I am." He gestured with open arms. "Giving you a chance to get rid of that man."

  Doly folded her arms, mumbling with indistinct words. The besiegers' catapults hit twice, and still she did not give him her final say.

  "I thought you were eager to do that." Masolon smirked.

  "Not on a night like this one. You must have lost your mind."

  "This night could be your last chance, Doly. Who knows what happens when our wooden wall is destroyed."

  She thought for a moment before she glanced at him. "I will be a widow?"

  Masolon could not help chuckling. "I was talking about surviving the attack. That is what you should really worry about."

  Staring at the ground, Doly bit her lower lip. "I can't believe I'm even thinking of this right now."

  "The matter is simpler than you think. We go to Smit right now. He is the cleric, and he knows what to do to get this done."

  "What about the audience? Haven't you thought of that?" She peered at him for a moment. "We are not going to make the rituals at the wall. Forget it."

  "Of course not." Undoing his marriage while the catapults were undoing the wall—sounded poetic, right? "We will get our audience from those who did not go to the wall."

  "An audience of women, children and the elderly." Doly tilted her head right and left, obviously weighing Masolon's suggestion. "I'm not sure if this might work."

  "Smit will surely know better." Masolon motioned to her to follow him. "Let us go now before it is too late."

  "I can't believe I'm doing this." She exhaled heavily. "I must first tell Mother."

  "You will have to explain to her, and we have no time for this." Masolon gently pulled her by the arm. "Let us hurry to Smit."

  "Get off me!" Doly yanked her arm away from his grip. "You have lost your mind!"

  "Have you not noticed that silence?" Masolon swept a long arm toward the palisade wall they could not see from this distance. "The catapults have stopped bombarding the wall. Do you know what that means? The wall is breached! They could be storming the village right now."

  "What is this yelling, Doly? Who is that you are talking to?" Doly's mother cried from inside the house.

  "I'm not going anywhere, Masolon." Doly gnashed her teeth. "You want to get this done now? Bring Smit here."

  His wife, his sweet angelic wife hurried inside, slamming her door shut. Curse you, Doly. That old man might die on the way to her house. "You know what? I am bringing him here, Doly." Masolon did his best to make his voice reach her behind the closed door. "You hear me! You had better be ready!"

  Not expecting a reply from her, he scurried to his horse and swung up into the saddle. He galloped in the quiet vacant village, and in a few minutes, he made it to Smit's house.

  The old man was astonished when he opened his door to see Masolon standing there. "I didn't believe them when they told me, but you are here indeed."

  Masolon had no time to argue with Smit about his stance in this fight. "Tell me: what is the smallest audience required to undo a marriage?"

  Smit jerked his head backward, his slim grey eyebrows drawn together. "You come to ask me about this now?"

  "What is the smallest possible audience, Smit?" Masolon insisted.

  "The lads came here, looking for you. They need you right now at the gate." Smit waved him away. "Go now and end this havoc!"

  "I can end nothing on my own, Smit," Masolon snapped. "Not after I was betrayed."

  "You don't understand. You are requested by name to discuss our surrender terms. You are our only hope to save this village from a bloodbath."

  "I am requested by name?" Masolon scoffed. That Gramus must be impatient to avenge his last defeat in their unfinished duel. "You have no idea, old man. The only chance you and your folks have to live is to let their general kill me. And let me be honest with you here: I do not feel like sacrificing myself for you." He smiled crookedly. "Not after this day in particular."

  "I'm not asking you to sacrifice yourself or let their general kill you," Smit clarified. "I'm begging you to fly to their queen who asks for an audience with you at the gate."

  25. RONA

  Still clad in her soiled blood-stained gown
, she stood in front of the palisade wall burning brightly, waiting for Masolon to come to the wooden gate of Herlog. Gramus stood by her side, twenty heavily armored knights mounting their horses behind her. Payton, the new Commander of Archers, positioned his men in a half-ring formation covering Rona and her knights from all sides except the side facing the gate, which strangely remained intact after hours of bombarding the wall with catapults. How was it possible that not a single fireball had hit that gate by mistake?

  "Please, Rona." Gramus tightened his jaw, his voice low. "For your safety, you should mind your distance with those bastards. I have tried them, and I assure you: they have no honor."

  "Don't fret about it, Gramus. My safety matters to them more than you think." She was their only chance to survive this attack, she knew that. If it had not been for her last moment interference, Gramus and his knights would have taken Herlog by storm.

  "Why do we bother talking to any of them in the first place?" Gramus spat. "We have you. The village is under siege. Their wall is destroyed. They have nothing to trade with."

  "Can a queen not be merciful to her helpless subjects?"

  Gramus furrowed his brow, a nervous smile on his face. "You mean the helpless subjects who killed your soldiers and took you as a captive?"

  "I told you I wasn't a prisoner with all the implications of that word." That was half a lie. "I was well-treated, well-fed. Their intention was to keep me until you come with the troops, and trade me for their safety." That was almost a lie. Only Masolon in this bloody village had this intention. All those bastards deserved to be executed. But how would she justify excluding Masolon from her punishment?

  "Well-treated?" Gramus stared at her blood-stained dress. "Is that why you fled?"

  "I lost all hope that you might return to this village. But don't forget, those Herlogans saved me from Di Galio's dogs." There was some truth in that part. Had Masolon not denied her presence when Di Galio's men came to the village looking for her?