TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga)

by Jason Paul Rice

JON

  Jon Colbert gathered his sons into a huddle so he could talk to them over the commotion and the locusts buzzing.

  “You know why we have to do this, don’t you boys?” he asked as he looked them all in the eye.

  Ruxin, Ryno and Krys all nodded their heads in agreement as their father clarified further.

  “The Fritz family is harboring other families and garnering support for a rebellion. I have received three different confirmations about a planned attack on Riverfront. You boys ought to know that if an egg is falling, you better catch it before it makes a mess. All the families of Mattingly are like a bunch of eggs thrown in the air. This rebellion is like an egg dropping, so we have to grab it now before it builds up momentum and we have a big mess on our hands. A little problem can quickly become a disaster if we ignore it. We must make quick decisions based on the evidence presented and act with haste. But we also must make sure we are thinking clearly and not out for revenge.”

  As he talked to his sons, the long-distance siege weapons continued to roll by. Each one proudly flew the Colbert banner, a black flag with a golden bull, ready to attack. The Fritz castle rested atop Locust Hill in central Mattingly. It was an older castle for Mattingly, built two hundred and sixty years ago. The castle had no protective siege wall around it and the Fritz’ depended on the steep hill and the protection of the Gods for insulation.

  “Duke Colbert, if we set up our weapons right along the tree line, straight down there, the castle will be in firing range and we can move to part two of the plan with ease,” said Sir Ryan Caughleigh as he pointed along the edge of the woods.

  “Alright, remember that we want the weapons mixed as we go, I don’t want to see a line of mangonels followed by all the onagers. We need to evenly attack this castle with as much force as necessary if Lord Fritz doesn’t come to his senses. Make sure that the arrow shields are secured and positioned in between the weapons. Fire, cover and wait for my command to reload. Where is Sir Richard with the response?”

  Duke Colbert had sent a message to Lord Fritz telling him he knew of the plans for revolt and that he needed to pledge fealty to the Duke in person. He wasn’t going to embarrass him and make Lord Fritz bend the knee, just a simple promise was all he wanted. He hoped the Fritz’ would come to their senses, realizing that they were grossly outnumbered, totally surrounded, and ill equipped to withstand a heavy onslaught. Jon Colbert was positive they would refuse the offer and he would have to attack. He had conceived a quick plan after making sure that advanced efforts for revolt were definitely underway. Then he went on the offensive mere days later to end the aggression before it started.

  Sir Rick Rosebud came galloping down on a white stallion with a black saddle, the sign of peace for negotiation in Donegal.

  He jumped off and approached the Duke and his sons. “The news is not good, my Duke.”

  “I didn’t think that it would,” replied Jon.

  “He would like me to inform you that the Gods shall cast you down like thunder. Lord Fritz said that you are letting too many foreigners into Mattingly and you have become drunk with money and power.”

  Sir Rick cleared his throat and spat on the ground as he continued in his husky voice, “He finally said that if you kneel to him and adopt the Fritz family ideals that he will save your soul for the heavens.”

  “That is an enticing offer, but he could have just declared outright war against us. Sir Rick...”

  “Yes, my Duke,” he instantly responded.

  Jon spoke firmly, “Prepare the siege weapons. Have everything loaded and four rounds back up on each weapon. Line up the archers as well, just behind the weapons and get the men with crossbows in the trees. If they rush us down the hill, we can pick them off with the archers. If they attack with force too heavy for us to handle with the bows, we will retreat slightly to fight on flat land. Ready the troops to unleash justice.”

  Riverfront had brought forty high-powered siege weapons to bombard the Fritz castle. It was about three hundred feet to the top of Locust Hill, which was well within their firing range. They used mangonels to fling giant pots of purple fire at the castle. The trebuchet was another catapult device that hurled enormous boulders. The onager launched smaller stones, but at a much higher speed. The ballistae were giant crossbows that spit enormous fire breathing arrows to set the enemy ablaze. When applied in unison, the results should be devastating. In theory they should, but Jon Colbert never had to use these before in actual combat.

  Jon looked over at his sons before speaking, “Boys, this is a lesson of history repeating itself. Don’t think I have forgotten what side the Fritz’ fought on during my father’s rebellion. They were best of friends with the Beverly family. You see, power will always cause tension. War is very human, my boys. Almost a natural instinct. It is the nature of the beast. The Fritz family feels that we stole some power from them and they want it back. There will always be someone who wants to take power, or take it back as in this case. I allow the Fritz’ to make more than they did when the Beverly family ruled Mattingly. I suppose old grudges tend to die hard.”

  Try to kill my father. Try to kill me. I will not let you try to kill my sons.

  “I know we shall crush this treachery right now, but let’s pray to the Gods for strength,” decreed Jon Colbert.

  They all dropped to a knee, placed their right hands over their hearts and covered it with the left hand as Jon began the prayer:

  “Please Gods, guide us in this battle. We didn’t wish for this, but it is our responsibility to take care of it. In the presence of the Gods, we shall put a stop to this treason. Keep us from the darkness and guide us to eternal light.”

  Everyone removed their hands and readied for the attack.

  “Are the men in place, Sir Herman?” Jon inquired.

  “Yes, my Duke, they await your command,” he returned.

  The weapons and soldiers were spread out over an area spanning two hundred feet, but Jon Colbert’s deep, sonorous voice could be heard by all as he boomed, “Alright men, we don’t want to do this, but we have to do it. Take aim. On the count of three, we’ll unleash a fiery trip to the afterlife for the Fritz family supporters.”

  He started walking toward the trees to get behind the weapons as he counted, “ONE, TWO, THREE.”

  In one fell swoop the north end of the castle was absolutely rocked. Jon Colbert felt the ground shake as large chunks fell out of the wall with some of it shrouded in a purple blaze. A shower of arrows rained on the Colbert faction, but only plastered the fourteen-foot wooden arrow shields and surroundings. About thirty Fritz men raced down the hill, only to be mowed down by the archers before coming close to reaching the bottom.

  The men stayed behind the safety of the thick shields until they heard Jon Colbert shout, “Load up again and take aim.” After being sure everyone was ready he exploded again, “ONE, TWO, THREE.”

  Another round majestically thundered into the air, connecting again with almost every high-powered weapon. The screams of terror and death could be heard from a distance. They took cover again but only half the amount of arrows came down compared to the first round and not one man tried to rush the Colbert clan from the hill.

  This is for you, father. I know Lord Fritz killed your brother James during your rebellion. Look down with pride today.

  After they repeated the process the fifth time, Jon Colbert bellowed through the chaotic air, “West side move, west side move.”

  In harmony, the troops rolled the siege weapons slightly downhill to attack the west wall of the castle. They went about one hundred feet where they had more ammunition set up and began to reload. Jon Colbert allowed his sons to think that he wasn’t watching them, but he never took an eye off them as he orchestrated this beautiful destruction as well. The boys were in awe of their father and the devastated castle wall. His sons had never seen this side of their father, although they knew it existed. They remembered the father and statesman, but never the warrior. Jon
seemed to wear the war hat well, the boys noted. There were ignited fragments of the castle that fell rapidly down the hill, stopping harmlessly short of the Riverfront men.

  Once again the Duke of Mattingly roared, “ONE, TWO, THREE.”

  The west wall was instantly destroyed and no arrows were sprayed at them now. Jon Colbert only fired one more round. It was the seventh overall round and he thought this rebellion may be crushed. The Duke was impressed by how the siege weapons caused a great amount of damage with relative ease. He had many other weapons like these stashed away and even more being built. The Colbert men looked at the fire brander’s castle as the wild, heliotrope flames roared like a lavender lion and smoke spilled from the smoldering embers. They moved the weapons faster and more efficiently than he could have envisioned. Only twenty minutes had passed and this uprising was already snuffed out.

  “But father,” said Ruxin, “Can’t they try to escape from the other sides of the castle and regroup again?”

  “We have men at the bottom of Locust Hill surrounding the entire castle,” Jon assured his sons.

  “Every man sixteen or older will be put to the sword unless he surrenders. I feel sorry that Lord Fritz subjected his supporters to this death wish. We will take the prisoners to Mattingly with us. We’ll divide the women throughout the region and find trades for the men.”

  Most dukes or lords only thought about winning. Jon Colbert knew exactly what to do after victory. He generally stayed at least one step ahead of his contemporaries.

  Jon Colbert gazed with pride at his knights, several of whom were tending to matters near him. He felt that they were the best in the land. They were all battle tested, which was a prerequisite for a Mattingly knight. The same could not be said for knights in other regions. Most men achieved knighthood through merit, but the right social connections also helped some slip through the cracks. It was difficult to determine which region had the best knights because they never entered the same tourneys or skills competitions. Some older knights participated in Fox Chapel tourneys but that was over thirty years ago. Some younger knights served at war with each other, but that was about it. The land was divisive, with only Fox Chapel and Burkeville sharing combatants anymore. The Fox Chapel knights almost always got the better of Burkeville but every region claimed to harbor the cream of the crop.

  He looked over his top knights who were gathered about twenty feet away. Thirty-eight year old Sir Herman Weiham talked to the older Sir Balthasar Strong and Sir Richard Rosebud, who also answered to the nickname Rick. The twenty-eight year old Sir Jeremiah Elmhurst and Sir Ryan Caughleigh, who was ten years his junior, listened intently. They were all of good stature with strong loyalty to him and that had helped Jon decide to let his older sons squire for Balthasar, Rick and Gunnar. Riceros squired for “The Wild Bull,” whose absence was noticeable today. Sir Brehan Castaway almost always graced Duke Colbert’s side.

  Mattingly was the only region that knighted men who weren’t born there. Several of his knights came from different areas of the world. Still looking at his fine crew, he noticed prisoners being led toward him in the background. Some were burned badly, bleeding or both. Jon wanted his sons to see the damage these actions had on real people to prepare them for the hard decisions that one day awaited them. Krys, the future Duke of Mattingly, would need all of his brothers to help him run Mattingly someday. Jon only had a younger, jealous brother to help him and two uncles who had assisted until he grew old enough to rule on his own.

  They need to realize that actions can cause terrible reactions on friends and family. Lord Fritz put his selfish, false ideals ahead of his family and I don’t want my sons to make that fatal error.

  The Colbert sons’ attitudes perked up slightly as the female prisoners were being led by. Ruxin walked over to help a young lady with a bloody hand.

  THE PROPOSAL

  EDBURGH

  Ed wandered around the city street on foot, under the cover of his hooded cloak. He was very cautious and aware because Rollo told him, just days before he died, that you could never trust anyone in the Capitol. Edburgh had not been in Falconhurst for about ten years. His trip had taken him across Waters Edge, over Silver Cap Mountain and down the Royal River. He took the same path that his ancestors had when they saved Ali-Sander Wamhoff from sure defeat against Goldenfield.

  The Etburn flag bearers had raced down to Riverfront to attack Goldenfield from behind, ultimately causing disarray. The Goldenfield soldiers retreated and ended up signing a peace treaty that more than doubled the size of Donegal. The Wamhoffs and Fox Chapel had claimed accolades for the victory, but the Etburns and Waters Edge still take credit for the win to this day.

  Now he walked into the middle of the Capitol. The wondrous landscape and structures he remembered seemed to have dwindled in quantity. The epic street shops were gone and the quality of merchandise had dropped dramatically.

  It was a nice spring day, but the crisp air was marred by the smell of feces. Ed heard whispers on the way down that the King had stopped funding the maintenance of the sewage system and had given even more money to the Faith of Eternal Light. As a consequence, sewage had backed up and overflowed into the streets creating an invisible fog of disgusting smells across the city. Everything along the Royal Road, from small castles to houses, had appeared run down and even the market places weren’t exempt from this problem.

  However, all that changed when he approached the heart of Falconhurst. The first thing he noticed was the reason for the unkempt appearance of the outskirts of the Capitol. The Faith of Eternal Light church was immaculate. It was an imposing concrete building about ten years old. Fox Chapel had tried to build fourteen concrete structures before the Faith of Eternal Light. Every single one had collapsed, which led most people to believe that the Gods helped hold up this structure. A golden dome that vaulted above the main entrance amazed visitors. The building rested atop a wide, steep staircase made of marble. The four outer walls had a sky blue background with intermittent white patches to replicate clouds. In the forefront were gigantic paintings of the Gods floating in the heavens. They appeared to be as tall as ten mortal men combined and the intricate detail was amazing for the magnitude of these images.

  The King had spared no expense or resource on the church. The building was a masterpiece of false prosperity. The parishioners paid in gold so they could have a man chosen by the Gods and Brothers tell them that everything was going to be alright when they died. In return, they got an immaculate church of fake worship to attract more money. The biggest church Edburgh could think of in Waters Edge held no more than one hundred people. The King had turned religion into a status symbol as well as a faith in the Gods.

  Edburgh began to get a little nervous as he pulled his hood back to look around better. He wore none of his usual Etburn markings. The signature Etburn silver eagle was nowhere to be found on his outerwear. He couldn’t think of the last time he’d gone out without the eagle on his chest or shoulder. But he couldn’t afford to be spotted as an Etburn because the King had told him not to look like the son of a duke.

  I better be right on this or it’s my life. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed her?

  Now he knew he was getting close to the King’s castle, as he could see the sculptures ahead on the side of the crooked cobblestone road. The Walk of Kings wound down a gold lined road. Life-sized statues made of bronze with impeccable detail featured every Wamhoff king from the first, Ali-Dus, to the most recently deceased, Ali-Baster. They were sculpted to exact height and likeness, right down to the last hair. Most held great swords, but there were a few that wielded scepters. He walked past four hundred years of kings who greeted him as the castle neared. Edburgh once foolishly wished to be king as a young boy, only to realize that the best he could achieve by law would be falconer.

  Being alone was a contrast to what he had been accustomed to with Caroline. She was always right by his side and he knew she would have commented on how the statues gleamed in t
he sunlight. But now he traveled alone, all alone. He had left his family, whom he felt didn’t really love him anyway. Now exacting revenge was of utmost importance. Edburgh had already covered a great distance just to arrive in the Capitol, but he still seemed far from being sure this plan would work. After five hundred feet of regal statues, the castle captured the horizon.

  It was multilayered with towers that touched the sky and other parts that were only one or two stories high. The outside appeared to be made of huge, rectangular black and gray stones. Rushing water raced beneath the bridge ahead of him as the Royal River intersected the Royal Road on the way to the castle. Ed stopped for a moment as his heart raced.

  He could be trying to lure me in to kill me because he doesn’t like my father. No, my mother is his favorite sister. He was never much of an uncle though. He would never miss me. I never thought of that.

  Even though still unsure, he proceeded to the crossing on the path to the castle. The bridge had huge, square wooden posts supporting the frame that held the thick cedar planks, pressed flatly along the top of the bridge. At the end was the first set of guards.

  They were an odd couple. A small red head with a smashed nose and dopey look sheathed a sword taller than him. The taller man had armor and donned a long sword. He wore the Wamhoff sigil on his surcoat. The two foxes protecting the royal crown had been the family symbol for four hundred years.

  The tall guard pushed his long black hair away from his brown eyes and said, “No one gets past here without a passing paper.”

  Before he could finish, Ed produced the rolled up paper from inside his pocket. The large protector silently unrolled and read the permission slip while his little partner gave Edburgh dirty looks. He handed Ed the paper, stepped aside and nodded his head. With the creaky bridge now behind, the immense castle loomed ahead. A final little cobblestone path guided him straight up to the front gate. A giant silver fox sculpture stood three men high on its hind legs, ready to pounce on any intruders. The seven guards helped keep out unwanted people as well. Ed approached slowly, fumbling for the paper. He was still in awe of the magical sight even though he had seen it before.