Chapter 5, Fall of a king
"Are they still out there?"
"I think we're done for, Your Majesty…"
"Don't give up yet! Is the surprise ready?"
Sweat glistened on the twenty-seven men's foreheads in the weak torchlight, everyone for the moment concentrating only on three of them. The men in the small group were furiously trying to connect cables in what appeared to be small, dark balls. A depressingly tiny heap of them were lying to the men's left, a hope-bringing bunch to their right waiting to be readied.
"We need more time!" one of the men harshly croaked, wildly glancing at the distant source of sunlight.
"Calm down or we're toast!" the blond leader demanded, hoping that his authority would help his warriors regain focus, "and we're not going to be caught today either, understand?"
"Yes, Your Majesty…"
Edgar had to turn away to keep himself calm. Trying to dry his soaking forehead with his bare hand he glared at the opening of the cave were two of his men stood on nervous guard. The air was chilling, but his fear sent drops of cold sweat through his skin.
The attempt to sabotage Gestahl's iron ore industry in Narshe's mines hadn't gone smooth. There had been more imperial guards than the rebels had thought and now the soldiers and king of Figaro were hiding in a small natural cave just north of the town. It had no connection to the main mines; the men were trapped like rats.
And the empire's soldiers were closing in, easily finding the fleeing traitors by the tracks in the snow.
The bombs were too unstable to prepare in before-hand and the ones at the refugees' disposal were loaded with some of the last dynamite left in Figaro. More could very well be impossible to get a hold off as anything dangerous was well guarded in this world. Gestahl didn't tolerate anything to threaten him even the slightest.
'No! It can't end like this!' Edgar fiercely thought, forcefully closing his eyes and clenching his fists.
When he looked up again, the first thing he saw was one of the men from the entrance, hurrying towards him with horror filling up his wild eyes.
"Your Majesty…!" the soldier croaked in a hissed whisper.
Edgar's soul froze in terror, cowering before an impossible thought as he stumbled over to the cave entrance.
'All gods, please… no…'
They had been lucky before, but he had always feared the day when the wheel of Fortuna would turn. Where was Locke when you needed him? That man warded off misfortune with his pure charisma…
The runaway thought crashed as Edgar carefully looked out into the snowy world. His already dirty nails scratched the cold cliff he had leaned the hand against.
About ten imperial soldiers and a couple of magitek armors were on their way up the slope of the cliff, all eyes set on the crack among the rocks. Fine, those could have been eliminated even without the bombs, Edgar knew enough magic too handle the armors in a surprise attack.
But there was a man in the lead. A blond man.
The weak snow falling from the cloudy sky seemed to flutter away from Kefka as he impatiently walked, even though he wore a dark jacket against the cold and not his normal green, yellow and red robes easy enough to recognize. The hungry, cruel flame in his eyes could be spotted miles away.
"Is that him, Your Maje…" the soldier whispered, but his voice faltered.
"Yeah…"
Almost like a zombie Edgar nodded, clenching his fists until they shivered.
Trying to open up a passage to the deeper mines with the explosives would be madness, the risk was too great that the whole cave would collapse. Trying to blow their way through and run was the only sensible way… but not with so little time left to prepare more bombs, not with Kefka.
'Oh gods…'
Edgar straightened up, his lips wanting to draw back from his teeth as he clamped them. He reached out and took a hold of the two guards' arms. They stared at him with surprise through the fear.
"Listen now!" the king harshly said, "I'll try to keep them busy for a while to win more time. Stick to the plan with breaking through, understand?"
"B-but Your Majesty…!"
Sabin's brother shook his head.
"I'll be fine, I should be able to get away together with you. You will not try, or let anybody else try anything stupid after I leave, not before you have a chance to make it through. That is an order!"
For a moment they just stared at him, but the sharp tone of the last sentence left no room for protests from the loyal subjects.
"Godspeed," the man who had stayed put earlier finally managed to say.
With a grim nod Edgar let go and turned to the exit.
He took in a deep breath and stepped out.
"You just have to win all the time, don't you Kefka?" he called with all the sarcasm he could assemble as he became visible to the enemy.
"Well waddaya know…"
Kefka's arm shot aside to signal to the soldiers that if they made any attempt to kill that Returner, they would be meat mince within a second.
"Didn't expect to catch a sand shrimp in these mountains," the emperor's right hand said with his usual smirk, "how delightful."
"Well I didn't expect to see a clown here," Edgar retorted, "what on earth brings you to Narshe?"
"Clown eh?"
Kefka gave a hoarse, short chuckle. It wasn't pleasant to hear but it wasn't his laughter, which Edgar felt grateful of.
"Funny to hear that from a man leading a pathetic little rebellion," the madman said with a smirk.
"Why are you here?" Edgar repeated, trying to stay calm.
Every second he could win counted for him and his men. Betting on the madman's smugness was probably the best course of action he could take… the question was how long Edgar would be able to feed it to the imperial lord.
"Nothing but luck," Kefka mildly said, still sneering, "the palace just happened to be passing by above here, and when getting the message from the soldiers guarding the mines Gestahl decided that he didn't feel like letting the Figaro rats escape again."
"What joy…"
"Indeed."
'Play his game!' Edgar desperately thought, sending out the tip of his tongue into the cold air to wet his dry lips.
He knew all too well that Kefka only was toying with him, and there was no stopping the psychopath from killing everyone he could. Or worse, capture them to make the men one time performers at the Coliseum.
'Play his game…'
"I suppose you… wouldn't let my men go… if I came out voluntarily?" the king called, fully aware that such a trade only would be half met if even agreed to. And he couldn't keep from cringing as he spoke, unable to steadily offer the sacrifice to the hungry beast.
"Your Majesty!" came a croaking whimper from the caves.
"I'm just buying time!" Edgar hissed from the corner of his lips.
Meanwhile Kefka perked an eyebrow.
"Very cute idea, Edgar," he commented, "come over here and I might even consider it."
"Yeah, right…" the king grunted, but the wind caught his voice and brought it down even if he hadn't meant for anyone to hear him.
"Not trusting me, are you?" Kefka smirked.
"Not for a single second," Edgar admitted.
"What's wrong with the faith in your fellow humans these days? But I just might be feeling generous today, won't you try your luck?"
"I just might have to do that."
Clenching his teeth Edgar stepped out from the shadows of the cliffs.
He had come about one and half a yard into the cold world when an explosion was heard from behind him and he spun around.
"One of the bombs went off too early!" one of the guards croaked and rushed out to grab Edgar's arm, talking so fast it was almost incomprehensive, "they threw it at the wall, it opened a tunnel, we can escape!"
'Thank all gods…!'
Edgar threw himself and the man towards the entrance with a wordless cry, wild hope from the miracle exploding through his grief…
"Oh no you don't!"
Kefka's voice whipped through the air and Edgar fell to the ground, clutching at the dark spider web that glued itself onto his back and legs.
'Good Lord, NO!'
"Guardians of thunder hear my prayer…!"
"Your Majesty!"
The call was almost drowned in the thundering of moving feet and the earthquakes from magitek armor approaching.
"Run you idiots!" Edgar roared, blindly sending a weak storm of lightning bolts backwards.
When he saw the Figaro soldier get to his feet and more of his men showing up in the entrance of the cave to help him, the king desperately threw his hand upwards – and with it, the lightning flaring from his fingertips. Rocks and snow rained down and blocked the entrance just enough to stop the horrified men from committing suicide by rushing out in a hopeless attempt to protect their liege.
"Run!" Edgar more or less screeched as Kefka's magic cruelly dragged him backwards, over the sharp rocks hidden under the snow.
Locked inside by their own leader the soldiers could do nothing to save their king as imperial soldiers roughly grabbed his arms and tore him into standing. All they could do was flee before the magitek armors broke through the rubble.
Edgar couldn't fight a wince as Kefka grabbed his hair and violently pulled his head backwards. The stare from the grayish eyes tore through the fallen king's gaze, and he had to fight not to recoil at the delighted insanity filling his captor's features.
"Don't give me that look," the madman softly said, almost purring, "instead you should be happy for the upcoming reunion with your brother. I'm sure he has missed you, Edgar."
"Sa… Sabin…!" Edgar croaked, trying not to grimace of pain.
"Who else, you stupid little sandworm?" Kefka said with a cruel sneer, finally letting go, "but first of all I'm sure that the emperor will be just as delighted as I am to have such a guest for dinner…"
"What have you done to him!" the king shouted in terror-filled rage, for the first time trying to break free from the rough hands holding him.
He only gained new pain as the soldiers mercilessly locked his arms behind his back.
"Oh, not much…" Kefka sneered and turned to lead the guards of the new prisoner back down the mountain, "yet."
He was too thrilled over finally having the impudent king in his grip that he didn't care at all about the escaped men.
And neither would Gestahl.
"Are you sure about this?" Karn asked for the fifth time in the last two hours, "I don't want to leave you in Death's lap, dammit!"
"We've discussed this together," Clyde grimly said and grimly gazed towards the dark coast, "we'll never get a clear shot if we don't go into the lion's nest. Simple as that. And when you've set us off you are leaving, a fishing ship like this will be suspicious hanging around these parts."
"You're crazy, you know that?"
Karn sighed but steered his ship onwards.
"Yes," Clyde muttered, "we are…"
He glanced down the ship.
Gogo stood by the railing, the chilly dawn winds idly playing with his robes and feathers. He was staring towards the coast as well.
Lights could be seen, vague by the distance.
Lights from the arena of death.
