The Volian Conflict Part 1 Chapter 3steemCreated with Sketch.

in #story6 years ago

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Here are the links to previous chapters

https://steemit.com/story/@frizzy/the-volian-conflict-part-1-chapter-1

https://steemit.com/story/@frizzy/the-volian-conflict-part-1-chapter-2

The Volian Conflict, Part 1, Chapter 3

The assassin was screaming in agony by the time the king returned with a steward in tow. Torgul blanched when he saw what Konza was up to. The royal guard captain had removed the man’s boot, buried the hook of the dagger into the man’s heel, and was very slowly pulling it toward the toes. Very slowly. The king had been gone a bit less than a quarter of an hour, and the incision was merely half an inch long.

“Um… Backeeri?” The king began, but stopped when Backeeri turned a dark gaze upon him. The general turned back to the matter at hand and wiggled the blade a bit.

“Having fun yet? I’m not. Frankly, I’d rather not have your filthy swine-blood all over me. However, you haven’t cooperated. Now tell me, which kingdom sent you?” Konza asked with his voice pitched low. The man looked into Konza’s eye, and still said nothing. Backeeri gave a hard yank on the dagger. The man shrieked and tried to pull his foot from Backeeri. The dagger was still in the man’s foot, however, so the general made no move to stop him from retracting his foot. Blood was streaming from the cut by the time the man had stopped moving it.

“Well?” Backeeri asked, and the man gritted his teeth. Nodding, Backeeri stood and went over to the table. He lifted the dirk and looked over at the bleeding man on the floor, and then at the other men in the room. He recognized the steward. His name was Jendro Baldro, and he was a thin man with long, straight, dark hair.

“Hello Jendro. Sorry about these circumstances, but we could use your aid.” The general said.

“Anything, general. I am at your disposal.” Jendro answered with a bow.

“Good. We need every fighting man available armed and patrolling the keep. Also I want six men on guard at the entrance to these apartments. Moreover, take the prince to my tower and instruct my wife to initiate the dove protocol.”

“Very good, sir. It shall-“

“Jendro… it is understood that I mean every entrance, yes?”

“Why, Backeeri, I have no idea-“

“Jendro.” The general’s tone was sharp, and commanding. “We both know of the secret passages here. Do not play with me. Every. Entrance.”

“Yes sir.” Jendro replied, his demeanor suddenly cowed.

“And Jendro?”

“Yes?”

“You had better bring the king some wine, or ale. This is a siege situation. I want this place locked down. Once you return with the wine, there will be no other person in or out of these rooms. No food, no drink. Don’t forget, Jendro, dove protocol. Go now, and hurry back.”

Just as he finished giving his directions, the general descended upon the assassin, beginning the assault with a kick to the hooked dagger still imbedded in the man’s foot. Then, Backeeri thrust the long dagger swiftly at the man, sinking the tip into a series of muscles. The strikes fell fast and hard, and Backeeri’s accuracy was astounding. As soon as the assassin felt a cut, the blade was slipping into a different part of him. Konza backed off, watching the man squirm as he bled from two dozen or more shallows slits. He grabbed the obstinate assassin’s ankle and pulled him away from the wall so that he lay flat, then stepped on his chest and stooped over to get his face as close to the other man’s as he could.

“From what kingdom do you hail?” Konza Backeeri asked, with a deceptively soft voice.

“F-Framtol!” The man sobbed as he tried to cover all of his wounds at once with his shaking hands. Backeeri stood back up and took his boot off of the man’s chest. Then he hunkered down into a squat.

“Thank you, friend, you’ve done well.” Konza said as he set his palm on the top of the man’s head. Then he reached his right hand out and drove the blade into the assassin’s throat from the side. The assassin gurgled as he peered up at his slayer. There were tears in his eyes. Backeeri pulled the blade out through the front of the man’s neck, severing his windpipe, jugular and carotid. A gout of blood accompanied the dirk’s ejection from the man’s throat, and he began to convulse. It didn’t take him long to expire, however. He soon ran out of blood. Meanwhile, Backeeri had stood and begun to inspect his surroundings.

“My father always said he owed you decades of his life, but I thought he had been exaggerating.” The king said, eyeing Backeeri with a frightened respect. The general hated it, as much as he had hated torturing the assassin. He returned his attention to the room. The walls were stone, and there were no windows. This pleased him. Also there was ample room to swing a sword. “Backeeri?”

“Yes, my liege?” Konza asked, smartly turning on his heel and looking into the fat king’s eye.

“What… What is so wrong about demanding a tribute from my neighbors?” Konza sighed as he thought about it.

“They were already paying, Your Majesty. Why demand more? They’ve paid this kingdom so much for good iron and coal, and some of the best smiths on the continent live in this very city. So, they’re paying even more for good steel, ingots and unworked material. You tax all of that commerce. What more could you want? You have enough income in a year to feed yourself and feast your populace for decades. That is what was wrong. And they’d rather kill you than pay to equip their armies twice.”

“I only asked for ten percent-” the king began. Konza’s patience wore thin at this moment.

“Precisely, Torgul! Would you give ten percent for the chance to buy something?” The general all but roared. The king was taken aback. Backeeri stared fiercely into the king’s eye for a moment, and then turned his attention back to the room. Just then, boots sounded on the walkway outside of the door. Two loud knocks were heard, and then a shout.

“Entrance secure, General Backeeri.” Backeeri nodded with momentary satisfaction, and then moved to the door and knocked twice in reply.

“Alright, my king. The way around us should be sealed soon, and then we shall see how many they truly sent for you.”

“Konza, will my son be alright?”

“If Jendro is loyal and didn’t run off to save himself, then yes. My wife and I have dozens of contingency plans to ensure that your line doesn’t fall.”

Just then, the pair heard a scuffle outside the door. A man yelled in surprise, and another in pain. The clash of steel on steel rang out, and then all was calm. Two knocks sounded at the door. Konza knocked twice in reply again, and then dropped the thick timber bar into the iron holsters. He stepped away from the door. They heard footsteps behind them. Konza turned with his hand on his sword hilt.

Jendro and two guardsmen stood in the doorway to the king’s bedroom. The head steward moved from the door and three servants came in, each carrying a platter. One platter held wine, one held a pony keg of ale, and the last held a roast duck. On each of the drink platters stood three cups of appropriate type, upside down. The roast duck was partially carved, with the long, sharp carving knife sticking into the meat. It lay on a bed of spinach with carrots and fried, cubed potatoes arrayed around it. It smelled wonderful. The trio set the platters down, bowed to the king, and then left.

Konza and the guardsmen followed the three serving men through the king’s bedchamber to the servant entrance, which was a thick, unadorned door. He peered through and saw three guardsmen standing there, idly watching the servants pass. The two guardsmen joined with them. One of them caught the eye of Backeeri, and stood a little taller, nodding at the man. The general smiled. He had trained the three guards himself. When the door closed, Backeeri returned to the sitting room, where Jendro was pouring the fragrant red wine into the chalice in the king’s hand.

“Alright, Jendro. Staying or going?” The steward set the pitcher down.

“Going? This is indubitably the safest room in the entire city just now, General. I shall stay, if the king will permit it.” Jendro cast a sidelong glance at the king, whom was wiping wine from his unkempt beard. The king nodded, and then Konza shrugged.

“So be it.” The general moved back to the servant door and barred it just as he had in the sitting room. He sighed. “Now we wait.” He whispered to himself.

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