The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (28 page)

“What have I missed? Is this a Harlian idea of staying hidden and inconspicious?” Rodreigo spoke from
behind the cowl, then tossed two
more
monk
robes of similar make to Balric and Sebastian, who both looked ready to kill or kiss one another in the alley. He assumed the former was the more probable than the latter, yet Harlaheim was not Caberra.

Without more than a sideways glance for retorts, the two Harlian men donned the robes, took the sticks, and pulled the hoods up over their heads. The three wanted men, wanted for the false death of the man they had been hiding, stepped into the merchant streets of the capital in search for their missing king.
Guards marched the streets in sets of four, soldiers of the Crossguard Legion of the Aldane were posted in platoons of one hundred, and the city seemed a militant state more than a mecca for trade and antiquity.
Bright blue banners with red feathered crosses flut
tered over tightly formed legionaires
marching
in steel plate armor. The purple and black tabards over chainmail
with the golden crown and rose were everywhere. Yet, three old monks, hunched over with walking sticks to guide them, made through the streets at a quick pace.

They heard it before they saw it, everyone within three blocks likely did. Hands now under their suffocating garments, blades gripped unnoticed, they made through the thickening crowds to the voice they knew too well.

“I
am
Richmond the Second, your king
lives
! Charge the castle with me and end---“ His rallying lecture, atop a fruit cart next to his own statue, received overwhelming laughter and ridicule. Then it received old vegetables, rotted fruits, and even horse dung through airborn retort.
He deflected some hardened dung with a rather full and fresh bottle of wine, yet the softer projectiles impacted all over his purple velvets and regal attire. It matched the sewer stains rather well.

Richmond, curly hair full of filth, unshaven for weeks, stared down his long nose and drew a golden rapier. Eyes turned, not toward this drunken fools’ rhetoric, but the glint of gold caught many eyes. “Your king
Phillip
is an imposter, he was the seneschal only, and supplanted me with shapeshifting creatures that---“

“Richmond was a fool, he’s dead man, give it up!” A brown head of lettuce launched from t
he crowd and splattered over
Richmonds back.

“He be lookin’ for coin is all, throw him a copper bit to shut him up then!” Bits of coin, small rocks, and foreign objects descended toward the dirty man with filthy velvet.

“You insolent fools, you wretched disloyal peasants! Do you not know your king when he speaks?! You owe me fealty and my rule to be---“ Richmond suddenly heard applause arise from the crowd, clapping, cheers and laughter. He smiled and began to bow, then felt the tip of a blade at his back, then another, and then a strong arm grabbed his arm with the rapier.

“Finally, the church sends aid to the drunkards that pose as our lost kings! Hurry priests, there are two more at the south end!” More laughter erupted as three robed men drug the drunken man pretending to be the late Richmond the Second off of the fruit cart.

“Let me go, I am no false---“ A hand covered his mouth, a hand with rings and finely manicured nails, and golden bracelets. Richmond looked up to the cowls t
hree, seeing the face of
Rodreigo
first
,
then Balric,
and
then
Sebastian.

“
My liege, this is folly. Would you care to live and see justice done, this is not the path.” Rodreigo took the rapier, scabbard, and sheathed it under his robes.

“I spit on Caberra! You and yours likely had a hand in this, through Rosana, something. Take your shining trident and shove it where---“

“
My king
! Please, if you continue this, we are dead men. Show me that I serve something better, that you want something more than this." Sebastian lifted the bottle from his hand and tried to wipe some of the food from his clothes.

“There is nothing, nothing to gain. I have no castle, no army, no crown…and Saint Erinsburg is empty. The people are gone, no sign of Lord Cristoff or Queen Rosana, and
I made that happen
, I ordered it burned. I wish only to die on my throne, in my castle, like my
noble
forefathers.” Richmond was drunk, tearing, and smelled of rotten food and sewage. “You
are released from your service
to me, Sebastian
Caunrenier
.”

“I am afraid you now longer have any power to order or release anything, Richmond. Yet, I have never been one to give up
easily
.
So, if you wish to see these things undone, to see some form of honor restored,
you need to fight, and
you will need to be forgiven.
” Balric surveyed the area. Merchants were talking to Harlaheim guards, pointing toward them as they held the former king to the ground behind the carts.

“Forgiven? I doubt that anyone will allow that, perhaps in hell they will.” Richmond wiped his brow and eyes
as he chuckled
.

“
We need to get to a warehouse
, south of here, near L’Herrim Square. I have contacts there, an underground cathedral to the Broken Wing of the Aldane.
Their
assistance
to the church will be helpful.
” Balric looked again, more guards were arriving.

“Oh yes, the great spy speaks. Tell me, D’Vrelle, what could you possibly do to assist me?”

“
For now, getting you out of here
,
alive
. Rodreigo, Sebastian, to our right. Harlaheim guard approaches, let us move. Come,
king of velvet stench
, time to save you from yourself.”
Balric, assisted by his cohorts, pulled the former ruler of Harlaheim to his feet.

Arms around their quarry, the spy, the knight, and the Caberran lord took Richmond fast through streets and alleys leading south. Past the Library Fastine, under the Valacanal Bridge, and even crossing the Saint Chatephes Garden out of the northern merchant center they went. Sweat poured from the three men in heavy brown robes, the sun was gloriously bright, and the wind spared them no quarter. Turning right down
an alley between the Saint Gavriel Cathedral and the Wynnegarde Museum, the four headed now for the western edge of the port district. Gargoyles loomed from corners, this part of the city was old and tarnished,
and most buildings were downtrodden and empty
.

“You there!” It echoed behind them.

“
Run men, they decided to follow
.” Balric whispered. He knew if they were caught with Richmond the Second, their deaths would be long,
public, and painful.

“Stop in the name of H
arlaheim and King Phillip!” In front now, they had two squads, then they heard
more. A
third
squad
from the
south yelled as they heard their brethren in pursuit, boredom on dock patrol
,
more than anything
,
else drove them to get involved.

“You priests are ordered to halt!”

“
Now what, are we close?”
Lord Rodreigo dell Amarr followed, one arm on his shamshir under the heavy garments, the other on the former king.

“
Surrounded, no use.”
Sir Sebastian held his king while
he looked back, then forward, t
hen to his right. Twelve men of the Harlaheim guard had them
cornered
with nowhere to go but north
toward L’Herrim Castle, the last place they would find sanctuary.

“
Two blocks ahead
in the deadend alley
, on the left, knock twice on the unmarked wooden door, then enter. It is a safehouse of the Broken Wing, go!”
Balric took the robes off over his head and tossed them to Sebastian. He drew his saber and shortblade, the guards picked up their pace, and he resolved that they would have to be held here otherwise they would be led to the underground cathedral.

Another set of robes were slung over Sebastians shoulder, those of Lord Rodreigo. He twirled his engraved and bejeweled curved shamshir in his left, matching dagger in his right. “Caberran honor will not abide letting one Harlian stand alone against twelve. Besides, my blades have been idle for far too long.”

“Make that three on twelve.” Sir Sebastian drew his rapier a moment after the three sets of monk’s robes hit the cobblestone.

The drawing of twelve rapiers was nearly simultaneous, Richmond put his back to the wall, and his three protectors took stances around him and glared at the Harlian guard.

“Priests do not often carry blades, nor smuggle drunkards to the docks. Stand down
, drop your---“ The sergeant was cut off by another guard
from the other detail
.

“By Alden, that is Sir Sebastian, and the bishop from Chazzrynn!” All eyes went wide as he spoke it.

“The Caberran Prince as well, then that must be…”

“
King Richmond
?” One of the guards whispered and began to take a knee. Realizing he was the only one, he quickly stood back en guard.

“My loyal guards, it is me, your---“ Richmond started to bow in his drunken state.

“Richmond is dead, we all were on duty for his funeral. This is an imposter.” Another spoke up.

“I thought the body was stolen, how was it at the funeral?”

“True there, but they said these men are the ones who stole it, killed the priests too. Send for a capitan, now!”

“I would not do that if I were you. Everyone just stay calm now, I can explain everything.” Sebastian looked to the men, some of which he had seen before, but
he did not remember any names.

“These men are enemies of the crown, of King Phillip. They killed the king, but who is…?”

“I said go fetch a capitan,
private
, that means now!
These are wanted men.
” The sergeant demanded.

“If you take one step from here, you will leave us with little choice but to kill each and every one of you.
If you value your lives,
ignore that order private, Sir Sebastian is---“ Balric
had him stopped, eye to eye, then
the sergeant yelled over him and took a step closer with his blade.

“Silence! By order of King Phillip of Harlaheim, you four men are under arrest. Lay down your blades and no harm will come to you.”
The twelve men drew closer.

“Such promises sergeant, but I feel we are obliged to decline.” Lord Rodgeigo bowed slightly, smiling from his handsome mustache and trimmed thin beard, then resumed his stance.

“
T
ake them!”

Just as the guards took their first steps in, Balric dashed ahead, chopped his saber across two blades, and drove his shortblade into the sergeant’s chest. He quickstepped back, deflecting rapier slashes as he went, and then crossblocked and lunge meant for his neck.

Rodreigo spun his shoulders into a twirling dance, his dagger leading with parries as his shamshir crosscut the lunging points of the guards. Steel rang on steel as he weaved, then he stopped. Both his edges cut low then high, and the shamshir sliced two men down in a silver flash.

A guard screamed as the point of Sebastian’s rapier claimed his life through the heart. Another dropped from a slash through the thigh, yet two point
s
came right for the former knight of Harlaheim. One he ducked, only receiving a nicked earlobe. The second drove deep into his shoulder and hit bone.

“Richmond, go!
” Balric sidestepped and slashed his sword across a guard’s neck, ran toward the wall, and kicked off of it. As he turned in mida
ir, he dove both his blades past
the
collarbones of his two remaining opponents. He rolled across the alleyway, grabbing a rapier from a fallen soldier, and was up on his feet in the blink of an eye. The rapier flung from his hand, a brutal overhand throw, and went end over end until it landed into the private that had decided to run for a capitan. Balric stepped over to his weapons, drew them from the
dying men, and watched the
young guard fall to his knees with the rapier clean through him.

The feinting of a dagger and then the dancing slashes from the shamshir were dizzying to watch. Two rapiers seemed to only think of attack before being parried and riposted. Both guards backed up three steps, feinted long swings, then lunged point fi
rst at Rodreigo. As their rapiers
reached where he should have been, the one on the right felt the sting of steel under his ribs and through his mail shirt. His cohort t
urned and swung high, his blade
met the curved dagger, and then the air rushed out his lungs as the curved sword ran him all the way through.
Rodreigo went back en guard.