Invasion
Chapter 33

Copyright© 2012 by 2 flags

Some time earlier:

The men stood nervously in the audience chamber. It was beyond ornate. Pillars and statues covered in gold and precious stones abounded. Tapestries and paintings depicting valiant warriors and heroic battles decorated the walls. In front stood a raised dais upon which a vulgar throne protruded like a giant carbuncle.

"All kneel in the omnipotent presence of His Majesty, King Vladik. King of the Northern Slopes, Emperor of the Glorious Empire of the Brotherhood. The Chosen One!"

The giant double doors opened. Magnificently dressed guards marched in, tall and resplendent in pure white uniforms. Each carried a large shield and golden spear. In the middle of this was a tall man dressed in black leather. Behind him were several scantily dressed slave girls all bowing and singing his praises.

The procession approached the throne. King Vladik sat down, his guards flanking him. One of the slave girls knelt at his feet, while two more knelt at his side. He lifted his feet and rested them on the slave girls naked back, she winced as his boots dug into her unprotected flesh.

"Well, what news? How goes the conquest? When can we expect to visit our new lands?" the Emperor demanded

The men looked at each other nervously, each trying to get to the back of the queue to give bad news. One of the men suddenly stumbled forward, pushed by those behind. He looked daggers at his companions.

"Don't just stand there! Tell me of your glorious victories! Enthral me with the tales of the riches you have taken in my name!"

"Well, your Majesty, it's like this: we have not as yet managed to fully capture the island. Also, we do seem to be having some local difficulties on the western shores of the Empire. I'm sure these are just slight setbacks. We will soon regain control of these areas."

"You have the Black Guard. They should have dealt with these peasants without even breaking sweat. What news of them?"

The man was sweating profusely as he replied, "Er ... well, Sire ... there ... ah ... have been no reports from them, since they left for Small Cove. Our spies report that Small Cove is still in enemy hands. It could be that they were lost at sea. Neither the Guard nor the ships have been heard from."

"You mean to tell me you've failed me?" he asked, dangerously

Another man stepped forward and said, "My Lord, one of my spies reports that the Black Guard was defeated. They have either been captured or killed. He reports that a man calling himself King Tom had a hand in it. He also reports that this King Tom has taken control of Bridgetown. He is, as we speak, marching towards Dampford. As you are aware, we have been unable to capture it to this point."

The first man looked daggers at the speaker, who in turn smiled at the other's discomfort.

"What?" the Emperor exploded. "Unable to take one stinking little town? How dare they resist me! I will have every one of them impaled! Every last one of them! Send the orders now! Everyone in that town is to slaughtered! There will be no mercy! Tell those troops that if they haven't taken that town within the month they will be impaled instead! This is their last chance!"

"It will be done at once, Your Majesty" the second man replied.

The Emperor sat there thinking for a minute. "You say there is a figurehead for these rebels? A man calling himself King Tom?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Tell me, is he working alone or does he have some assistants?"

"Well, sire, my spies tell me of some men that are with him. One is a Lord Paul. He seems to be the one who has organized a group called The Angels. They appear to be the healers we have been hearing of. The other is Lord Tony. He is the one who led the rebellion around Gronhinne. We haven't managed to regain control of that area as yet."

"What is he? Some trumped-up bandit who has seized his chance?"

"No, Sire. There are reports that he his one of those Hero men that you warned us against. Apparently he was the one who thwarted our attempts at taking slaves last year. Our man in Bridgetown informed us of him. We had reports that he had left the area, but apparently he and his companions have returned."

The Emperor's face turned red with rage. He viciously kicked away the unfortunate slave girl at his feet, and stormed over to where the man was standing. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, lifted him up, and started shaking him.

"You mean to tell me you knew about this man last year, but you chose to let him escape?" he screamed at the terrified man, his spittle flying all over the unfortunate man's face.

"No Sire! We did not willingly allow him to escape! He fought his way through our men. He defeated all who stood against him!"

"So! He thinks himself a warrior does he? Well, we will have to see about that! Send for T'Kathir! Bring him to my chambers!"

The Emperor nodded to his guards. Then, without another word, he left the chamber. Once he and his entourage had departed, the first man turned to the second.

"Well Devril, I think he may have accepted we did our best. I think I may sleep a little easier tonight."

Devril looked at the man like he had just grown two heads, and then said, "Quite, Rodthan, quite. I do believe I now know exactly what course of action I need to take. If you will excuse me, there is something I need to do."

Devril immediately left the palace, returned home, and collected his wife and children. He wasn't hanging around to see if Vladik was going to 'accept' that they could not have done better. He could see the writing on the wall, and was high-tailing out of there while he still could!

 
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