Chapter 12.
"My lord! Please, you must come out. It's urgent!"
Berwald ignored Toris's frantic knocking on the door to his chambers just like he had been doing for the past several days. He was slumped in his armchair by the fireplace, staring into the glowing embers of the fire that had almost died out. His eyes flickered to the clock on the mantle, but there was no use in looking for he had no idea how many days had passed, or if it were day or night. Berwald had drawn the curtains over the wooden boards on the windows to stop even the slightest crack of sunlight from entering the room.
"M-my lord, I understand that you're upset by what has happened, but you really must come out. There is som-"
Toris was interrupted and it sounded like he had been shoved away from the door. Growing irritated with all noise, Berwald began to rise from his chair and make his way over to see what the hell he wanted. He stopped and took a step back when the knocking on the wooden door turned to banging and grew even louder, less frequent and more rhythmic. After a few more bangs, the middle of the door began to split and an axe blade made its way through, sending splintered wood flying into the room; followed shortly by the whole door itself after by being kicked off its hinges and landing with a deafening crash at Berwald's feet. Before the dust and splinters had even had chance to settle, a figure came hurtling through the doorway and a pair of hands grasped at the collar of his shirt, slamming him backwards up against the wall.
"What the fuck are you playing at!?"
Mathias gripped even tighter at Berwald's clothing and pulled him towards him, just centimetres from his face as he yelled through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. Berwald was left winded and his chest heaved from trying to catch his breath after colliding with the wall.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Shaking Berwald like a ragdoll, Mathias was shouting so loudly and so close to Berwalds face that droplets of spit sprayed onto his chin. Still without saying a word, Berwald brought a hand up and pressed it against Mathias's chest and took a step forward. It didn't take much of his strength to move himself away from the wall, but Mathias's grip on his shoulders was so tight that they began to feel numb.
"Mathias-"
"You're so fuckin' stupid I could smash yer face into a pulp!"
As much as it pained him to see, Berwald was more than used to Mathias's anger and so he just stood within his grasp waiting for him to calm down, ducking as a clenched fist was swung at his face. His glasses fell from his face and landed at his feet as Mathias's elbow collided with his cheek.
"The only thing that is dear to me in this sick an' twisted world was just snatched away from me because you're a selfish piece o' shit! You wanted to play happy families with your little bastard kid while never even stoppin' to think about anyone else!"
"Mathias, enough!"
Getting fed up with this unruly behaviour and words Berwald brought a knee up into Mathias's stomach, causing him to double over and release his grip on Berwald. Seeing this as an opportunity Berwald shoved Mathias into the chair that he was quietly sitting in before all this commotion. He slumped into it hard, causing the wooden legs to scrape backwards across the stone floor a few inches. Taking a few strides across the floor, Berwald quickly approached Mathias and loomed over him, placing a leather booted foot upon the chair to keep him there.
"For gods sake Mathias! I- Why aren't ya in Menetti?" Berwald asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could. He glanced to the side of the room to see Toris still stood in the doorway, a hand over his heart. The boy just flickered his gaze between Berwald and Mathias and gave a nod of reassurance to Berwald.
Still hunched in the chair, Mathias began to run his hands aggressively through his hair and rubbed his eyes while he clenched his teeth together so hard that Berwald was scared that his jaw might break. Over the many years that Berwald had known Mathias he had witnessed him do this on so many occasions when he was reaching the end of one of his IED episodes. Every so often Mathias exploded into psychotic episodes in which he would lose himself to his mental illness and suffer from outbursts of rage. He would become very violent when triggered by even the slightest thing and ended up smashing rooms to pieces and screaming from the top of his lungs.
Taking his foot down from the chair, Berwald knelt down onto the floor so that he was at eye level with Mathias and placed a hand gently on his knee. Mathias's eyes were screwed shut and his chest rose and fell as he tried to calm himself down. As much as Berwald wanted to be pissed off at him, he knew very well that Mathias was even more angry with himself than anyone else ever could be. Guilt and remorse never failed to well inside of him after realising what he had done.
"It's gone. It's all gone." Mathias muttered.
Berwald listened in horror as Mathias began to inform him of the onslaught that brought Menetti to it's knees. His mouth hung slightly agape and his gaze didn't leave Mathias's face, watching as his eyes; once bright and full of life now dull and cold, traced the cracks in the stone floor of the castle as he spoke. Toris had now fully entered the room and gingerly took a seat on the edge of the bed in the far corner, his face pale. The raid that Mathias was describing is what he had been training for during the majority of his life as an exile. To think that it was really happening, and it wasn't just an over-precaution made his blood run cold.
"All of the few survivors have been sent to Orden and will be protected against any further attacks now that we know what to expect. We lost a lot of Vikings and all in vain, since they managed to take Lukas."
Mathias's voice was shaking, yet it was laced with anger and when he finally lifted his eyes from the floor and met Berwalds gaze the pure fury in them could've pierced right through him.
"But I don't understand-" Berwald began, but was interrupted by Mathias as he stood, now towering above him.
"Oh I think you do. You know exactly who is responsible for this attack. Where is he?"
Mud splashed up Peters legs as he ran through the village. His chest heaved and his throat was dry and sore from running without stopping for breath. The sun was setting behind the trees by now and Peter had just a few short minutes to get back to The House. After the attack on Menetti he and the rest of the survivors were taken to Orden, the next village to the west, and had taken refuge in an orphanage along with other children of all different ages. Scrubbing his eyes with the back of his sleeve as he ran, Peter dried the tears from his eyes and tried not to panic.
Berwald had always made sure that he was home and safe before sundown and now without him to watch over him Peter had lost track of time and before he knew it dusk was soon approaching and he was a while away from the orphanage. The village gates were now in view though and despite his little legs beginning to grow numb from sprinting Peter carried on running as fast as they would carry him. He had not been outside in the Dark for years and didn't plan to spend his first night away from Berwald caught out in it. The village of Orden was still so new but the House was easy to navigate to for it was just around the corner from the fountain he liked so much. It was bigger and much prettier than the one back in Menetti and Peter liked it when it sprayed shots of water high up into the air on the hour whilst the bells in the clock tower chimed in unison with it.
Glancing over his shoulder the sun was nearly completely swallowed up by the trees and hillsides and just a slither of it still poked over the top, but the House was now in full sight as Peter turned the corner so fast he skidded and nearly fell over causing a cloud of dust to rise around him. Luckily, the gates were open and he ran up the path, burst through the door and slammed it firmly closed behind him just as the last rays of sun faded. But he wasn't safe yet. Earning strange looks from the keepers of the House, Peter sprinted upstairs to him dorm and dived under the covers of his bed where he would stay until dawn.
"How is this all my fault when you didn't realize either? Yer not tellin' me that y' knew all this time and didn't say anything 'cause that's bullshit!" Berwald dragged a hand along the cold walls of the staircase that lead down to the dungeons in order to steady himself as he tried to keep up with Mathias. Mathias didn't say a word in response and with every step closer to the bottom of the stairs Berwalds heart sank a little lower, dreading the thought of seeing Tino. A week had passed since Berwald had left him there and he hadn't seen him since, it was Toris and Raivis that saw to him and made sure he was eating. They reported back to Berwald every day but it was always the same. Food untouched, cold lifeless eyes and dulling complexion as if he were dead, but the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest was the single sign that he was still alive. The very thought of seeing anyone like that, let alone Tino, made Berwald shiver. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Mathias slowed in front of the first cell, took of his gloves and cloak and tossed them aside. He then rolled up his sleeves and crouched in front of the cell as if approaching an animal in a zoo.
"It's true, I didn't know either. I've encountered many Utopian spies in my time, and it's true that Tino is different. There is no way we could've know, an' I'm sorry for blaming it all on ya." Mathias placed an elbow on his knee and cupped his chin in his hand, still gazing at Tino as he spoke.
This time, Berwald didn't reply, and instead moved to stand behind where Mathias was crouched in front of the cell and looked in at Tino. He was exactly where he had left him, slumped up against the back wall, chained up in the rusty old iron shackles. If Tino were moving and struggling he could've probably broken free from them, but it was true what Toris had described to him and Tino could've easily been mistaken for dead. He moved back a few steps as Mathias rose and turned to face him.
"Look. I'm not stupid, I know Tino means the world to you and I'm sure you mean the same t' him. He's too involved now for us to just give up on him, and he might just be the key to saving Lukas and ending this shit. I've been thinking about it ever since I got the news about what happened to him. Understand though that what I'm about t' try no one has ever tried before, and it could actually kill him or worse, leave him paralyzed."
Berwald still didn't say a word and folded his arms across his chest. Taking a step closer once more to Mathias, he straighted up and kept his eyes focused on Mathias's to show he was listening and urged him to continue. The flame from the torches burning on the walls cast an orange glow onto Mathias's face as he stood for a moment in thought.
'You'll find it in the castle behind where I stand.'
"The last thing Lukas said to me before we parted during the battle... It's been playin' on my mind. I think he was talking about the last stone. He's not stupid either, he must've known what the Utopians came out here for, it was him. Tino got close to us and without knowing it he gave away Lukas's location."
It did all make sense when Berwald thought about it. Lukas being captured happened around the same time as Tino acting weird over dinner which caused him to realise that he was a spy. But what didn't make sense if how Tino didn't know he was a spy. Or if he did...
When Berwald questioned Mathias about it, he just shook his head.
"Let's not talk about it here. C'mon, I need a beer if we're really going to go through with this. Besides, Emil is waiting to see you."
Word had quickly spread around the castle of Mathias and Emil's arrival and numerous rumours about what was going on and what brought him here unannounced soon followed. After calling a short meeting with the higher members of the Vikings who trained the others and kept everything in order, Mathias briefly explained what had happened but under no circumstances was word to get out yet, and the rumours would have to continue for now. The small council was handpicked by Mathias himself and he trusted every one of it's members with anything. Toris had long since been dismissed even before the meeting. He knew most of what was going on though anyway, and as Berwalds steward he also knew the truth about their past and everything about Lukas and Emil. He and Berwald shared a bond that most people couldn't imagine and Berwald too knew things about Toris that no one else did and swore to keep his secrets with his life. But even despite this, Mathias wanted what was about to be discussed to stay between he and Berwald only.
It was in the same meeting chambers that Mathias had stayed after everyone else had left and now he had his booted feet up on the table as he leaned back on his chair, swinging back on it on it's two back legs. His horn of beer was nearly empty and as he waited for Berwald to return from seeing Emil he looked down into it, swilling it around in the bottom of the horn while he gathered all of his thoughts and pieced together where to even begin. From his days working for the Utopian government he had learned many things about the spies and what they were sent out to do, but clearly they had now gone beyond what he knew or he wouldn't have been able to let Tino get so close without noticing. For this reason he began to blame himself for everything that had happened, but regardless of if he had realised Tino was a spy or not, the day where he lost touch with the old ways of the government were sure to come eventually. He just hoped what he was going to do would be the right thing, and if they could really trust Tino at all.
Emil's fingers traced the cracks in the mirror that hung on the wall. It had been years since he'd been back here, and the ridiculously over sized mirror that took up the majority of the wall taunted him. Foolishly he'd peeled back the sheet that he threw over it all that time ago. Disgusted at what he saw brought a fist to his reflection and smashed the glass. As much as it pained him to see himself staring back, he couldn't bring himself to look away and forgot all about his bloodied knuckles. When they were younger Lukas had aways admired and loved him as a little brother despite everything, and the spell cast over them froze him in his current state, which he was ever thankful for, but since he had feared his reflection and wanted nothing more than to never look at himself again. Hearing footsteps outside, Emil broke from his trance and quickly let the sheet drop back over the mirror. Racing to his bed, he sat down and grabbed the nearest thing to him, a book, and busied himself with it, only looking up when the person who had come in had fully entered and closed the door behind them. Then did his eyes well up with tears and he choked back a sob that he couldn't hold in anymore. Rising from the bed, he threw himself at Berwald who himself had began to stride towards Emil, gathering him tightly in his arms and holding him close while Emil cried into his chest.
Berwald caught sight of the cracked mirror beneath the sheet and the bruises and blood on Emil's nimble hands as they clenched the fabric of his cloak. His brows furrowed but he could only embrace Emil tighter and rest his chin on top of the mess of grey hair beneath him.
"It's okay. I've got you."