Chapter 2 : Long Live the Thane! (Part 3)

Vasper stormed furiously into the hall trailed by Kast, who had the noble captive securely in tow. A few guests looked over at the commotion and gaped in unbelief at the illustrious figure of Count Bey being manhandled by the burly bodyguard. Their curiosity was quickly diverted, however, by fifty of Vasper’s elite guard who descended upon the House Bey table with startling alacrity and held the thirty or so occupants at spear-point. More guardsmen appeared and began clearing the table by haphazardly flinging aside expensive silver platters and dishes that clattered noisily onto the floor. Even more shocking was the sight of the most prominent noble of Serapis, who was dragged over to the table by his monstrous captor and violently thrown on top, knife to throat. The festivities ended abruptly as musicians and dancers alike abandoned their instruments and props and ran to join the throng of indignant party guests who stood, loudly clamouring for an explanation.

“Pay heed to the thane! Sit and be silent!” Kast commanded the unruly guests. The mob quieted down and sat (for the most part) back in their seats, eyes set squarely on Vasper who had climbed on top of Bey’s table and stood staring down at the powerless rival who lay, forcibly held down, upon the table.

“Treason has been committed!” Vasper’s head popped up and he shouted at the intently watching crowd. “This man – this tactless gutter-dog - has taken it upon himself to overthrow me!” His voice became subtly quieter, but shrewder. What he lost in volume he more than made up for with an air of irresistible discernment, taking on an unsettling quality that compelled the listener to want to confess to all manner of crime, real or imagined. “The traitorous wretch did not work alone – he had help from the rest of his house, which is to be expected – but other houses, too, shared the adulterous marriage bed of his conspiracy. Of this I am certain – the only question is, who?” His eyes probed the low-lit room, searching the throng as though able to detect traitors by mere sight alone. Shadows danced around the walls of the great, round room, ominously scattered about by the flickering light of lanterns and torches. Cast against the supernatural awareness of the accuser they seemed a legion of evanescent spies, flitting here and there to find out secrets.

“By now my agents have proven their ability to protect me from poorly contrived plots - a lesson you would all do well to remember. For now I shall be content in knowing that you all will have witnessed the dispensation of my wrath upon the house of Bey, so that you will now know with certainty that your thane is neither a fool to be plotted against nor a milk-sop to be cowed.”

He paused to allow the high-born assemblage to consider his accusations before pronouncing judgment upon the fallen house. “House Bey shall be stripped of noble title and its name forever held in the contempt and dishonour it has earned. All lands and holdings shall become the property of the governing house of Serapis – that is to say, mine. Male courtiers and retainers shall be condemned to indentured labour in the iron mines of Hesseth Anun in the far north of Serapis and females shall also be considered property of house Vasper, to be used, traded or discarded from one generation of beggarly bastards to the next, at my discretion and that of my heirs, until the family line should be bred into its final and utter ruination.”

Vasper quickly quashed the shocked murmur that had risen in response, and made skillful use of his hall’s unique acoustic properties to amplify his voice and his vitriolic tone.

“As for the former count and all those in attendance with him here, I judge these to be the direct and dominantly complicit parties in the attempted assassination and plotted overthrow of a royally ordained thane of a province which is held in dominion by the royal princedom of Unver. These men and women are guilty of no less than high treason against the ruling house of this country, and against Prince Fedyk himself.” Gauging the general reaction in the room, it was clear that his guests were by no means entirely in agreement with his assessment, but that no longer mattered. “I cannot ignore the seriousness of these crimes, nor will I. To expedite the prince’s justice, and to serve as a lasting reminder to those of you who have shared in their treachery, these traitors are to be summarily and immediately put to death.”

He stepped down from the tabletop and motioned to the guardsmen, who stood with the points of their spears against the throats of Bey’s coterie, ready to commence the execution. Kast’s blade pressed into the skin around Bey’s precious throat, but the large man seemed preoccupied and grew increasingly frustrated as he looked over the prisoners.

“Someone is missing!” he exclaimed. Vasper looked over at him, quizzically. “I can’t explain it, my lord, but thirty-five people came in with the gutter-rat and only thirty-four are here now. I gave the men very clear orders that everyone at this table was to be watched at all times. I don’t know how this could have happened.”

“It was the servant – the one dressed in rags.” Vasper replied. “Clearly he was something more than he appeared.”

“The failure is mine, my lord – I will accept the blame.” He kneeled before his master, head bowed.

“Do not be troubled, my friend,” Vasper laid a gentle hand on his servant’s head, a token of forgiveness. “You did not fail. Now rise and do your duty.”

Kast rose proudly, bowing to his master. He gave the command and guardsmen on either side of the captive Bey grasped an arm and forced his back flat against the table. Vasper slid a slim blade into the top of Bey’s expensive tunic and slit the garment from neck to hem, then pulled it open to reveal the pale torso beneath. He leaned in to whisper in the count’s ear, “I hope you are ready to meet the tormentor, to whom I will now send you, mutinous fool. A pity that I am not afforded the luxury of extending the sending, but it would not do for the others to see such things.”

Vasper pulled the long dagger back, lining up the point with Bey’s rapidly beating heart. The blade was freshly sharpened and seemed thirsty for blood. Kast gripped Bey’s chin and forced the head back to expose the soft flesh underneath. “Better to go for the throat, lord. Death would be sure still, but longer in the coming,” offered the bodyguard. Vasper grinned as he adjusted the angle of the knife and prepared to thrust.

A sudden commotion broke out all over the hall, accompanied by the tell-tale sound of four-hundred sword-blades being slid from their scabbards. Vasper paused the death-stroke long enough to look up and see four-hundred noble guests standing defiantly, each with a naked blade in hand.

“A little careful prodding in the right places and the conspiracy is revealed, just as I said!” Vasper laughed triumphantly to his most trusted servant, “consider this a part of your continued education, captain. To effect the gradual attrition of one’s enemies is a more subtle and often wiser approach,” he explained, “but there are also times when one must act more boldly! Draw your foes into the open all at once, and level the hammer of destruction upon them with one definitive act.”

Baron Madray yelled across the hall, demanding that count Bey be released and Vasper’s forces surrender immediately or die.

“Perhaps you and your pitiful band of ‘fighters’ would like to come and retrieve your precious leader.” Vasper responded shrewdly. “I would warn you, though, that you will find me more than adequately prepared to put down a bunch of spoiled aristocrats who, were one to combine the sum total of all their labours throughout sheltered jokes that are their lives, could not equal one slow day from one of the lesser slaves of my house. By all means, come and get him!”

A hundred armoured guardsmen appeared almost instantly at his unspoken signal, filing out of a hidden chamber beneath the floor to link up with an equal number of their compatriots that were already in the hall. Altogether Vasper’s forces amounted to less than half that of the opposition; it was more than enough to decimate the poorly organized resistance presented by the inexperienced rebel nobility. Hollered commands issued from Kast’s mouth and the guardsmen advanced, hastily throwing party décor aside as they marched through, spears at the ready. The nobles, meanwhile, bunched clumsily together like so much spear fodder.

The fate of the overmatched nobles was sealed; slaughter was approaching on the ends of Vasper’s spears.

The turning of the tide came swiftly, accompanied by a decidedly authoritative male voice that echoed from behind the rebel line.

“Stand down!” the voice cried, accompanied by the twang of a bowstring whose arrow bloomed in the chest of a high-ranking guardsman who had been standing directly to Vasper’s right side. The guardsmen’s advance halted immediately and several of them moved in to cover thane and captain from harm.

Kast pushed his men aside to scan the room and identified the lone assailant who stood near the hall entrance, bow in hand. He cursed loudly, recognizing the servant’s rags that clothed the killer from head to toe. “Only a slippery puddle of kudgh dung hides behind the weak! Come and face me with honour, coward, or I swear by Yidsn’s empty eye-sockets, I will mount your head in the jacks-pit with its mouth open for me and my men to relieve ourselves into!”

The only response was another twang of the bowstring followed by a loud groan as a second high-ranking guard went down, to Vasper’s left side. Fury split Kast’s face practically in half, his teeth bared in a snarling rictus. Enraged, he smashed a table with his fists and then heaved a large chair, one handed, toward the silent attacker and felt a strange kind of satisfaction about his rageful futility. “Identify yourself immediately so that I may hang a sign over top of the sludge-hole I shall dig you for a grave!”

Vasper waved his guard to silence, having recognized the attacker’s voice. “General Serdigal, I would have thought you would be keeping watch over the garrison in the northern marches, where I sent you. I cannot help but wonder why I find you here, neglecting your duties at a feast to which you were not invited.”

Thick fingers pulled back the servant’s cowl to reveal a silver-headed face, care-worn, ruddy and criss-crossed with scars of varying sizes. The nobles moved en masse between their commander and the enemy, making an effective human shield.

The voice that responded was deep and raspy, as if the speaker’s throat had been scraped raw, or perhaps frost bitten. “I’m doing what neither you nor this noble rabble can do without me – leading your army. Or perhaps I should say I am leading my army!” The nobles responded by whooping and hollering, banging sword-butt’s on tables and stomping their feet in reverence to their commander.

Vasper’s cool expression belied any displeasure at the unfolding of events. He waited patiently for the noise to abate, whispering something inaudibly to Kast. The big man nodded assent and left his master’s side, disappearing among the men. Vasper stepped forward and locked eyes with Serdigal, daring his errant servant to make a move.

“Many years ago you swore to protect and defend me even to the death – what of your oath, general? Is your word worth so little?” Vasper practically whispered the question, yet it was loud enough for all to hear.

“Do not speak to me of oaths.” Serdigal responded, “How many oaths have I abandoned in your service, Vasper? Do you even remember, or have you lost count as I have? Do you remember the first time I broke an oath for you? I swear never to use the power or authority invested in me, as a soldier in the royal house of Serapis, province of Unver, to knowingly harm the innocent, on pain of death. I was kneeling before the king when I made that vow. You promised to raise me up among the great in Serapis if I would forget it.

Serdigal changed his voice, mocking Vasper’s tone, “‘Do not be concerned about the innocent’ you said to me, ‘Who are they? Can you show me a person who has never lied or cheated in some way? Can you show me a person who has never taken unfair advantage over another, or sold out ideals for personal gain? You cannot, so do not try. Do as I command of you, and be concerned only with reaping your reward. I will worry about deciding who is innocent and who is guilty.’” The voice became Serdigal’s, once again.

“It was you who taught me how to interpret my vows to suit my purposes, and you who took full advantage of my willingness to serve your will, no matter dark and debased you became. You enlisted my services, sure enough, but forgot to pay the reckoning.”

“Strange sentiments,” Vasper interrupted, “from one who has been more than adequately rewarded for his service. Did I not keep my promise to raise you up among the great?”

Serdigal paused briefly to collect his thoughts. “I believed that, at first. You raised me up to be your general – the commander of your royal army. You made me great among the warriors of Serapis and the world beyond. You gave me status and authority – soldiers to command and wars to fight. For a time I thought I had achieved everything I had ever wanted – glory in battle, honour in command and renown in all the nations of the Combine.” He spat disgustedly, pacing erratically as his ranting continued.

“Eventually, it would seem, I outlived my usefulness to you. One by one, all your rivals and enemies had met their fate at the end of my lance, until none were left, and suddenly you were a diplomat, not a warlord. It wouldn’t do for you kill your champion outright, but it was necessary to distance yourself from all your killing and all your wars. So it has been my lot to spend the last five years of my life pissing icicles and searching for new ways to avoid freezing to death, with no women and no one but a ragged rabble of a garrison for company. It is my task to protect the frozen wasteland that you call the northern marches from the dangerous wildlife and snow drifts that threaten to descend upon Serapis-proper in conquest at any moment! What a mighty threat we face from the tiny, furry creatures that live along the northern borders, which only the mighty commander of the Royal Army can allay!”

“You’ve been using me like a two-ranna harlot in the back-alleys of Verdistat, and I’ve had enough. My service to you ends, now - you might say I’ve had a better offer. I will keep the oath to my thane in the spirit in which you taught me – long live Thane Bey! Death to the tyrant! Let your demise be slow and—“

Serdigal’s speech was cut short by stealthy movements from the long cast shadows on either side of the hall’s two great, silver doors. Four men, two on either side, burst from the surrounding darkness, long blades gleaming in the torchlight, and ran toward the general, closing the trap. Serdigal reacted instantly to the threat, moving far more quickly than his short and stocky frame would seem to allow, the long, two-handed sword appearing so quickly it seemed almost to have sprung into his hands of its own accord. Serdigal wasted no time in engaging the enemy and leapt toward his nearest opponent almost gleefully, blade swinging in expertly placed strokes that knocked the first attacker’s sword from his hand, following with a quick and fatal thrust through the belly. The second attacker was somewhat more skillful but his masterful defense was easily swept away, allowing the general’s blade to part head from neck.

The second pair of assailants reached their quarry a split-second later – barely enough time to register the fate of their dead counterparts. Serdigal wheeled around as they approached, unleashing a flurry of blows that threw one attacker off-balance long enough to engage the other, switching skillfully between the two combatants until both men lay dead at his feet.

Serdigal raised his sword into the air, basking in the exultant praise of four-hundred nobles banging weapons on tables and stomping their feet, amid joyous shouts of BEY AND SERDIGAL! THANE AND CHAMPION! DOWN WITH THE TYRANT! Serdigal laughed in the face of the enemy and shouted a command to advance. For a moment there was no response and it seemed as though the nobles had ignored their commander’s orders. The orders, however, were not for the nobles at all.

With a deafening crash, the great hall doors burst open and rank upon rank of Serapis’ royal soldiers poured into the hall, marching through the noble line that opened itself to let them through, to engulf the overmatched guardsmen. The battle was over in a heartbeat as the loyalist line gave way before the rebel troops who outnumbered them ten-fold. Organized columns of fighting men dissolved into a disorganized chaos of dying.

The thane has fallen! Long live the thane!