The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth

by Jason R Jones

“We are the Red Wolves of Agara, and we hunt spiders.” Rodreigo spun fast and disarmed the shorblade with two flicks of his edge. Before the man could run or question or beg for his life, Richmond plunged his sword into his chest, cleanly.

  “Kill quickly, men. Remember, these agents work for Johnas Valhera, the brand is for life, they will never betray. So you leave a sword in the night for someone else, if you let them live.”

  No one spoke, no one disagreed, and behind these four men laid over twenty spies and agents of the White Spider. They ran left, then right, then up stairs that were unlocked from above. The sewer smell faded, the stone turned marvelous gray, and they came upon rows of cells. Balric led with Richmond now at his side, running in the dark of the prison ward. More spiraling stairs, more open doors, just as planned.

  Richmond gasped, three hands covered his mouth, as he realized where they were. His hand reached out, touching the crimson cloth behind the thrones. Balric turned his face toward him, lifted his mask, and shook his head to the no. He pointed to Richmond, then to the wall to their left, a secret passage that was also convieniently left partially open. Richmond nodded.

  Up the stairs between walls they went, in total darkness, yet Richmond knew this passage well. They passed the floor with the royal suites, the floors with the barracks of the royal guard, the guest rooms, the noble prisons, and even the great dining halls of L’Herrim. He wanted to go in, he wanted to see his former castle and home, but up past they went, unseen and unheard.

  The wall at the end of the stairs pushed in, opening to an attic at the top of the castle. They ran for the window, it was open, ropes and banners there as they should be. They pulled the banners of Harlaheim in, then fastened the old crimson ones in their place.

  Balric peered out, seeing a flash of light from Cilano, half a mile across the city, he saw it glistening from his staff. They were ready.

  “I have never done this before, never, oh this is madness.” Richmond was breathing heavy.

  “What, you never broke into a castle and plotted revolution?” Rodreigo commented.

  “Not that.” Richmond stated dryly.

  “You never planned a symbolic assault on a kingdom during a ceremony, with but ropes down the side of a castle as your only chance of escape?” Prince Willain asked.

  “No. Not that either, though this is insane. No, I have never spoken to..said that…well I…” Richmond stuttered, the words were stuck.

  “You have spoken speeches that inspired your kingdom beyond most kings. Surely this is---“ Balric was cut off.

  “Yes, but I never spoke, never spoke the truth. Not ever, it was all lies, fancy words to sway people from the truth, to overlook the things I was really doing. Now, I have to tell the truth.” Richmond sighed, grateful he had gotten it out.

  “There is a first time for everything, Richmond. What you do now, will plant the seeds for the future. I am with you.” Balric grabbed his shoulder.

  “And I.” Prince Willian nodded with his wolf mask.

  “And I.” Lord Rodreigo bowed in grand fashion.

  “You are not Richmond the Second up there, the former king. You are Richmond, a Red Wolf of Agara, a hunter in the night, a warrior unknown for the freedom from tyranny that has overtaken your kingdom. Remember that. Do not reveal it until the right moment.” Balric pulled his mask down, drew his blade, and grabbed a rope. “You now stand for hope, Richmond. And we stand with you.”

  “Very well, let us go then.” Richmond breathed in deep, grabbed a rope, and stepped out the window at the top of his former castle. He pulled the mask down, and cleared his throat.

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  “Today, as you all know, is our honorable welcome of a new Cardinal.” Phillip was sweating, never had he seen so many people gathered in one place. They all stared at him, applauded his words, yet his stomach was turning flips inside.

  “It is also a day for our Agarian allies. We give honor to our friends to the south, to the newly seceded King Johnas Valhera of Chazzrynn, who was here through our most difficult times at Richmond’s murder. In years and kings past, Chazzrynn was our strongest ally, and so it is again.” It was applause he heard, scattered and solemn, but it helped him continue.

  “This day also marks another alliance, our brothers to the west, from the kingdom of Willborne. I have heard this day, that their council has finally decided upon a king and queen. Long ago, our kingdoms were allied against Caberra, in terrible wars, and I have the honor of stating to you, my people, that King Valistor and Queen Katrina shall once again honor those old friendships.” Phillip raised his hands high, receiving a little more bolstering cheers than his last pause, yet his nerves were still on edge.

  “The culprits responsible for the murder of our former king are still loose, yet one, Sir Sebastian Caunrenier, has been killed after another vicious attack on our sanctity. Many men died in that fight, but make no mistake my people, I will see justice done. The Caberran Prince will be found, even if it means war with his kingdom.” The people were cheering now, hearing blood, wanting justice, and listening to finely polished promises. King Phillip smiled and held his hands up to continue.

  “Long has Caberra held naval threat over our lands, and now their nobility has assaulted and insulted us on such a level, a low level of murder and conspiracy, one that I, as king, will tolerate no more!” He drew his blade, the people roared like thunder, and he felt like the king of his people at last. Phillip saluted with his sword to his chest, then the sky, and his men went into action. The flags on flagpoles were raised, his banners hoisted everywhere, and the massive ten story curtains with the crown and rose of Harlaheim began to unfold down either side of him on the castle walls.

  “Now, may I introduce the---“ The sudden lapse of applause held his attention and his tongue. The people were pointing, gasping, confused. Phillip had expected thunderous shouts, and nothing less, for the spectacle of pride he had spent days planning in honor of the new Cardinal. Where feathered crosses should have risen, there were wolf head designs on crimson flags. Where his banners of Harlaheim should be flying in the Square, snarling wolf heads of black looked back on fluttering cloth. And on either side of him, where the picturesque hundred foot draperies of scripture and Phillips image should have fallen in his Harlian glory, wolf heads with long tears in the cloth to resemble claw marks fell instead. He was horrified, beyond words, Phillip was suddenly frozen with embarrassing terror and shock.

  Kalzarius covered his mouth and stared with wide eyes. Cardinal Ganaire shook his head and walked onto the balcony, eyes unblinking. And then they saw it, from directly over their king, atop the roof of L’Herrim Castle. Everyone turned, every Harlian present, all eyes were on an armored man with crimson boots and bracers, a matching mask shaped like a wolf head, and his red fur cloak. He lifted his golden rapier as he spoke, three identical forms stood behind him, all four of them with their blades out glistening in the sun.

  “People of Harlaheim, you have been mislead by your rulers, your soveriegns, and your own blood! This man here, this king below me, is but a player on a stage, and he is responsible for the attempted murder of your former king Richmond! He and Johnas Valhera, and so many others! What does he sell you, what do you buy that he flaunts with his words?! Fine promises of justice, beautiful vows of war, another enemy country, or are you purchasing rubbish from another crown and another name?!” Richmond yelled it over the masses, they cheered as he paused, some yelled toward the balcony in vicious tones. He felt it, he felt the revolution in their blood, his blood, he knew his Harlian people well. He waited, he waited for the question from the crowd.

  “Get me archers, get me soldiers, and get me their blood, capitan. Get those banners down, or your head will roll in the square tonight!” Phillip turned from the crowd for a moment, then turned back as he heard his soldiers begin their march through the castle.

  “What do you offer that is any different?” Cilano yelled over the masses, there was no wa
y anyone would find him there.

  “I offer freedom, a new start, and the truth! Your queen Rosana lives, your knights were murdered, and the alliances Phillip speaks of are all the result! Black masks upon branded white spiders move through every city at night! They placed Phillip on the throne, look in his eyes and see if I lie! The war he wishes with Caberra is merely another takeover, another ploy to keep you blinded, and Johnas Valhera takes another country from below with our lives! Your men will die, ladies of Harlaheim! Your children will grow up thinking their fathers died for their kingdom, when in truth, they died for land and power of a foreign warlord!” Richmond stepped back, seeing many archers funnel and push through the masses. He waited, another question, one more, and they had to leave. Otherwise, they would be captured or filled with flights.

  “Kalzarius, do something!” Phillip was still in shock, unable to see the voice from above him, only hear the words. They sounded familiar, the voice, he had heard this man before.

  “Go Kalzarius, discredit him while the soldiers move to arrest.” The Cardinal stepped back to allow him through.

  “Very well, very well. This is atrocious in the most dishonorable degree, where are your guards, king Phillip?” Kalzarius shook his head as he neared the railing, and yelled up to the men on the roof.

  “And you speak of kings, knights, and noble blood so bravely behind your mask and paint! You are likely just some foreign spy sent to cause unrest! I say you are likely a gutter rat, so before this kingdom listens to your lies further, show your true self!” Kalzarius tapped his staff, hearing some applause, trying to keep his grin from showing.

  Richmond felt the towel, still wet, as Balric handed it to him from behind. He wiped his face, removed the mask, and the simultaneous gasps of tens of thousands rippled the very air. The Cardinal looked to Kalzarius, Kalzarius shrugged to Phillip unable to see up there at the angle of the balcony, then someone said it from the crowd.

  “Richmond the Second!”

  “Not possible.” Kalzarius gasped and looked to king Phillip and the Cardinal. “Richmond is dead, must be an imposter, or someone of close resemblance, your majesty.”

  “My name is of no importance, all you need know, my people of Harlaheim, is that the Red Wolves of Agara have risen once more! You will hear howls in the night, howls of freedom, and of revolution! Do not be bought, do not be sold, and do not believe one thing this imposter of a king preaches to you!” Richmond threw the red paint smeared towel, it fluttered in the air, and landed below on the balcony, next to Phillip. Arrows loosed, they came close to the red Wolves, but not yet in range. The crowd was chanting his name, it was deafening, and the soldiers could not get through.

  “Richmond, Richmond, Richmond!”

  “Your men die in other kingdoms for foreign nobility, and your king holds a brand on his back, a brand of a spider courtesy of his master, look and see! Down with king Phillip! Out with the truth! Hold true to your kingdom, and the Red Wolves shall return!” Richmond pulled down his wolf mask.

  Richmond saw one of the men hand him a rope, the other two stood guard as he descended the fastest hundred fifty feet he had ever gone, straight down the backside of the castle. His hands burned through the gloves, yet he was on the cobblestone, rapier in hand. The others landed with him, seconds after, and the chase was on. Arrows flew, guards charged from every direction, and the people roared the name of the Red Wolves, and then they even howled like wolves themselves.

  Just as legions of soldiers converged upon the position of these four men, down the sewer grate they went, and out of sight. Balric slid the bar across the steel plate that Rodreigo handed him. Then Willian slid in the other, the grate was impassible, for now.

  Richmond was smiling, from ear to ear, covered in sweat. His eyes blinked over and over, not believing what they just did. “That..that was..incredible. I felt…hope.”

  “Well spoken Richmond, well done.” Lord Rodreigo patted him on the shoulder.

  “Indeed, even I was inspired.” Prince Willian of Caberra saluted him with his shamshir, and Richmond returned the gesture with his rapier.

  “And now it begins. Time to move, men, time to move. They will be down here soon, we can congratulate one another when we make it back to the tower.” Balric led them quickly down into the sewers he knew so well.

  Balric did not think of Vanessa, nor Johnas Valhera, nor all the troubles in Chazzrynn. His mind was on Alden, not revenge, but on his training, the men at his side, and the mission to bring his country out of wicked hands. He felt free, no more foreign guises and assasinations, no more cutthroat deals. Here, in the Red Wolves, with his former king, he could fight for honor. Here, Balric D’Vrelle finally felt purpose, passion, and pride for his Harlaheim.

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  “Tell me the banners are down, at least that.” Phillip massaged his forehead in the dining hall by the balcony.

  “They are down, the proper banners are rising, it is over, your majesty.” Kalzarius bowed.

  “Your grace, it is time then. My apologies for that little display of jovial vigilantes, I will have them hung from the castle walls for disgracing you, rest assured.” Phillip drank some wine, then poured another glass, and drank that as well.

  Cardinal Ganaire paused, looked out the balcony, and thought of many words to say. He remembered his histories, from his long years past in tutelage at the mission. He smiled. He knew what the Red Wolves of Agara had stood for many centuries ago, why they had risen, and what they had accomplished. Few would know of it, unless old or well studied, and then the Cardinal looked to Kalzarius.

  The master of the arcane looked back to Ganaire, no smile on his face, but one for certain in his eyes. It was a knowing glance. “Your grace, how may I assist you?”

  Ganaire turned and walked toward the balcony. He looked out as people roared and cheered for him, more for what he symbolized. God Alden had been kept from them and was more of a desperate hope than worship. It was not what it was long ago, and Harlaheim needed change. He made the sign of the feathered cross upon his chest, the masses followed, then he put his hand out in the air, and silently blessed the people. Ganaire said not a word, and walked back inside. Still, the cheers and shouts of thanks and love went into the humid Harlaheim air toward the new Cardinal.

  “What..what was that? You are not going to speak to them, they have been waiting for days, Cardinal. What is this?” Phillip stood, angry, in disbelief that the Cardinal, a Harlian by blood, and after what had happened, would not give all he could to settle the masses.

  “Your people need not the words of some old man with a title, nor decress and threats and laws. They need love, King Phillip, and they need to see actions that show that love.” Ganaire sighed and smiled to Kalzarius. “Give them displays of kingly generosity, inspire them with deeds, if you can.”

  “This is preposterous, you said not one word out there, how dare you?” Phillip looked to Kalzarius, his eyes wide in shock again. “Can you believe this?”

  “How dare I? How dare you promise the Cardinal of the Aldane Church to hang men from your walls in his honor? Alden is the father of sacrifice, of love for mankind, of heaven, who had his wings torn from him for his people. He gave all, so that we would survive, Phillip. He is not a God of killing and vengeance that so many manipulate this feathered cross into for themselves, no.” Ganaire paused and took a breath.

  “You want words, here are my words. I will take my Crossguard Legion, all nine thousand here, and leave tomorrow. We will return to Acelinne, and let you heal your kingdom on your own. You have enough interference as it is. I will return, in one years’ time, and see if you are ready to hear my holy praises. For right now, you are not.” The Cardinal began to walk out, followed by his holy guards, and priestly servants.

  “My forces are minimal here, Cardinal. Saint Erinsburg is gone, I loaned five thousand soldiers to Chazzrynn, our ally, and by taking your Legions, I am at risk. You cannot do this, we have an agre
ed upon document.” Phillip was sweating now, he had worked very hard with Johnas to ensure that the documents were in place, forged of course, to keep that force here as he began his rule.

  “I signed no document, King Phillip.”

  “But the previous Cardinal, Desmonde, he signed and offered support.” Phillip replied.

  “Pity. Farewell, King Phillip. Farewell, Kalzarius of Harlaheim. God bless.” Cardinal Ganaire smiled to himself as he walked out.

  “The church will here of this, I will write to Acelinne, Cardinal. And you call yourself a Harlian?” Phillip growled.

  Ganaire turned to say something, then continued out of sight with his hand raised. Kalzarius bowed as best he could in his old age, and tried not to smile.

  “Now what do we do, Kalzarius? I have an army that is one third of what I need. Johnas Valhera will be expecting us to meet in Willborne with battle plans, Caberra will not sit idly and wait, and I have not enough. I need an army, soon.” Phillip sat back down, slowly, his hand trembling.

  “How may I assist you and Harlaheim, your majesty? I have no army, but I could help with smaller tasks.”

  “I need those vigilantes found, I need the Caberran emissary found, I need protection in the streets….I….” Phillip looked up to the ancient old man, one that had been targeted by every king since he had been alive, and one Phillip himself had even laid siege to at his tower. He squinted. “I do not know if I can trust you, Kalzarius.”

  “Your majesty. I teach arcane study at my tower. I am older than old at this point, and I have lived all my life in Harlaheim. I love my kingdom, my city, and the people. You are the king, and you have my services. All you need do, is ask.” Kalzarius put his hand on Phillips back, right behind the heart, right where he knew the brand of the White Spider would be. “Please do not judge what you do not understand, like so many kings before you.”

  “Of course not, I am not Richmond.” Phillip reached for his rapier, slowly. He felt the pressure, exactly on his brand, then it was gone. He blinked and shook his head, then slid the blade back down.