The Last Red Shoulder

Chapter 10: The Sins of Icarus

Khyron had expected his defense of Jutes to be successful. However, he didn't anticipate it would be this easy.

"You're certain the Red Shoulders never appeared at all?"

"Yes, milord." Barim scratched his head as he stared down from the northern wall of Jutes down at the battlefield below. It was filled with the scorched corpses of the natives—they hadn't even been able to breach the outermost defenses. "We have no idea why. I would have thought they might have launched a sneak attack or something similar, but if they were planning something it's far too late to do any good now."

"It seems that way, at least. The natives may have done better with aid from Red Shoulder cavalry and artillery, and especially dark magic. But I didn't see a single Black Knight or Eclipse spell! All those axemen just rushed at the walls, heedless of their own safety…" Khyron snorted. "I can salute their courage, but not their intelligence. Have you any estimates on casualties?"

"It'll take some time to get exact numbers, but only a few of them managed to scale the walls. We shouldn't have suffered more than maybe a hundredth of our number dead or wounded. The natives, however…I'd wager at least half of them were killed before they finally decided to retreat. What could they have been thinking? It seems they were expecting the Red Shoulders to support them as well, but the rebels never appeared. Where on Elibe could they have gone? I can only imagine how furious the leaders of the Western Isles must be at this betrayal. If the Rebels were willing to sacrifice so many of their allies, I fear they may be plotting something truly devilish…"

"Yes, I'm afraid of that as well. I wonder if it has something to do with the plot Gosterro mentioned? If so, I'm certain Wayland will have put a stop to it."

"I certainly hope so." Barim stared out into the distance, his thoughts now turned to Wayland.

"Hmph." Khyron noticed the change in his staff officer's expression. "Worried about him, are you? I suppose I can hardly blame you, given you seem to be closer than friends…"

Barim grimaced. "Respectfully, Lord Khyron, is that your business?"

"As long as it doesn't interfere with our duties here, no. I'll admit that. Still…" He sighed. "Perhaps I'm being unkind. I know well how much you cared for my brother, and how happy you made him. You've earned your own happiness, I should like to believe, so I'll not begrudge you finding a new companion in Wayland. He's an excellent warrior, and his interest in the ancient texts makes him well-suited to you. Even so, oughtn't you be more interested in women, now? Lying with a man is understandable for the young and inexperienced, but—"

"I should be more concerned with heritage at this age," Barim completed what Khyron would have said. "Well, I've already given Elicia a pair of children. My 'heritage' is safe and will not end with me. Thus, I feel no reason to deny my desires."

"Alright, alright, Barim, I understand. No need to get snippy. Just keep up the good work and I won't bother you about it." Something moving down below caught Khyron's attention, and he and Barim peered down at it. "A caravan? Coming through this battlefield? Where'd it come from? And—wait, is that Wayland?!"

"Wayland?!" Barim needed only to hear that name to race down from the wall and out into the field, Khyron hot on his heels. They'd descended the ramparts and passed out the gates, where they ran up to Wayland and his men, who were looking tired and battered, but otherwise fine.

Upon seeing Barim, Wayland shouted his name, and the two men rushed up and embraced each other, kissing each other on the cheeks. As befitting professionals, though, they didn't spend too much time on their reunion. Barim immediately asked, "What did you find, Wayland? What happened?"

The Knight General's elation at seeing his lover and companion disappeared. "It's a hell of a story," he said. "Look at what's inside the caravan."

Barim and Khyron did so, taking a peek through one of its suspiciously barred windows. What they saw shocked them.

The caravan was full of prisoners—no, slaves! Their shackles had been cut, but it was clear they had been chained to the walls originally. It was apparent they were residents of the city, for they were all wearing expressions of tremendous relief as the caravan neared Jutes. All of them except one, still chained to the caravan wall and looking profoundly angry about it. Khyron recognized him by his white hair and fancy (albeit stained and dirty) clothes, along with the anger with which the other prisoners looked at him. It was Icarus!

He turned to Wayland, shock evident on his face. "I think, Knight General, you had definitely start telling that story!"

Wayland did so very eagerly. That was the reason for the spectacle which occurred the next day.

-x-

It was rare that all the citizenry of Jutes were gathered in one place for a public announcement. Icarus almost never made them, being more concerned with amusing himself than running the city. On this date, the 15th Sword, however, there was certainly a very big announcement to be made. And he was the center of it.

In the middle of the town square, in full view of the citizens who only now realized how he had oppressed them for so long, Icarus was tied to a great wooden stake, kindling piled up below him. He was screaming for mercy, maintaining over and over that he did nothing, but his audience would not believe him. As the crowds of people whispered among themselves, the new lord of Jutes—Khyron Caerleon—strode up to the podium, flanked by his guards as well as his companions Wayland and Barim. He stood in front of the panicking Icarus and began his address to the crowd.

"People of Jutes," he began, his voice enhanced by magic, "I stand here today to correct an injustice and punish a vile, putrid traitor to the crown of Etruria.

"Several days ago, just before the Rebels launched their assault on this city, Knight General Wayland set out on a secret mission to intercept a traitor defecting to the Red Shoulders. Brave Wayland caught up to the traitor just as he rendezvoused with his handlers, and after fighting off the rebels, apprehended the traitor and liberated the cargo he was planning on selling.

"Who was the traitor? What did he steal? The answer is right in front of you!" Khyron pointed at the terrified Icarus. "This wretch has been in cahoots with the worst criminal elements across all of Elibe, including the Rebels, since he first came here!

"There have been many tales of "vampires" ever since he arrived. I was told there has been a spate of disappearances, particularly among the young, which started when Icarus took power. Well, as Wayland discovered when he opened Icarus' caravan, there were no vampires: Only a corrupt official!

"The truth is, Icarus was very deeply involved in the slave trade. Without the knowledge of the clergy and the stewards, he would hire pirates and mercenaries to steal the heartiest young men and most beautiful young women from the people of Jutes. He would then sell them off to slave traders, pocketing his 'finding fees' to line his own filthy coffers. When the Red Shoulders arrive, nothing changed! Indeed, he intentionally held his forces back to prolong the war, in order to provide cover for his activities. He went so far as to create an underhanded deal with the rebels: He would sell them slaves which they would brainwash into Red Shoulders, and in exchange, they would not harm him personally when they arrived at Jutes. Indeed, he was actually preparing to flee the city and hand it over to them when Wayland found him.

"Let me ask you something, people of the Western Isles. Do you think Icarus will escape punishment because he is an Etrurian? Do you think the Crown will overlook his crimes?"

The assembled crowd was as silent as a graveyard. They honestly didn't know the answer.

Khyron turned back to Icarus, holding his Elfire tome in his hand. The man's screams grew louder, but they were drowned out by Khyron:

"NO!"

He raised a hand in the air, summoning the twin globes of magic which coalesced into one and smashed down upon Icarus and his stake. The former lord's screams disappeared beneath the roar of the flames as he was set aflame. As proper punishment for his crimes, Khyron had modified the strength of his spell so it did not incinerate the traitor immediately. Icarus would suffer dearly and in a decidedly graphic fashion for his treachery.

"Citizens of Jutes, listen to me!" The Mage General paused for a moment, as if he was unsure of what to say. He swallowed, and it seems like he was swallowing something more important (but less tangible) than a lump in his throat. "I know that Icarus was a servant—or, at least, claimed to be a servant—of the same Crown I have dedicated my life to. I know he is an Etrurian like me." At this, Khyron's expression hardened. "And yet I also know that a shared homeland is no shield against a dagger in the back, and that foreigners can often be one's staunchest ally. I am prepared to admit that it is more important for valor and loyalty to flow in one's blood than nobility. In the name of King Galahad and by all I find holy, I swear to you, Westerners, that your mistreatment at the hands of Etruria has come to an end. I will not exploit you and betray you as Icarus did. I will expect you to work, and to strive for the prosperity of both our lands, but I will not ask anything of you I do not ask of myself!"

The city square remained as silent as a tomb. No response came from the crowd, which had been completely stunned, not expecting a speech like this in their wildest imaginations.

Then, far away, one person started to clap.

He was followed by another, along with a yell: "DEATH TO ICARUS! LONG LIVE KHYRON!"

This was followed by another…and another…as the whole crowd started to cheer.

-X-

Kain just didn't know what was going on, at least aside from the fact he was on a boat to Caledonia. And, of course, the fact that the assault on Jutes had been a total failure.

He closed his journal, having finished its latest entry, blew out the candle at his desk, then retired to the small bed in his cabin, staring into the darkness above and below him as everything which had occurred after that terrifying ambush replayed in his head.

The Royalists had captured Icarus' caravan, which would have slowed them down singnificantly, so it should have been easy to pursue them and recapture it. However, for some unfathomable reason, Oldnar had refused upon hearing Kain's report. He ordered Squad Seven, along with the other Red Shoulders, do withdraw back to Ebrakhm Castle, over Kain's protests. When they'd arrived, they'd heard the expected news: The assault on Jutes had been an utter failure without their assistance, and the chiefs of the warrior clans were furious with the Rebels, threatening to withdraw their support. Oldnar, however, was unfazed. "All part of the plan," he'd said. What plan that was, Kain couldn't understand, but between Zalf blaming him for everything and Jann expressing his faith in the supreme leader, he wasn't in any position to question it.

Neither was he in any position to question his next set of orders. According to Oldnar, the Bernese had finally made landfall upon Caledonia. The natives of that isle were a stubborn and determined lot, and even Dragon Riders would have difficulty subduing them. Squad Seven, along with a decently-sized contingent of the other Red Shoulders, had been dispatched to give Wyvern General Gustav aid.

Kain wasn't entirely comfortable with this. Bern, despite the help it provided in the previous campaign, was a monarchy of the sort condemned by Revolutionary ideology. Still, if they wished to support the rebels, therefore digging their own graves, it made little sense to discourage them or hinder them.

What, exactly, were they planning to do on the Isles, though? What would happen after they controlled Caledonia? Would they press on to Fibernia, therefore going directly to war against the Royalists? Or would they leave that business to the Red Shoulders?

Kain sighed. He'd find the answers to that when his fleet landed in Idina—the headquarters of the Bernese expeditionary force, captured a few days ago. For now…

All he could do was close his eyes and sleep.

::Linear Notes::

Nothin much to say for now other than keep readin. XD