Chapter 20: Royal Road to Misery (Patreon)

A black carriage travelled down the road, the light from the setting suns reflecting off its lavish gold decorations and brilliantly illuminating the road. Induen lazily slumped on the carriage’s window, staring at the great capital Dirracha far ahead.

Dirracha was called the City of Dragons. Detractors called it the City of Snakes, in reference to the Vasquer’s heraldry. The banners of the royal family hung from the walls; a great golden serpent coiled around a sword on a black field. Induen smiled, watching them sway in the winds.

Dirracha was built into the side of a mountain, ascending towards the peak like an upturned funnel until it rose to the Dragon Palace. One could see every level of the city, as the walls were not especially high. It was cordoned off into distinct sectors, divided by high walls and the long road down the center leading directly to the palace: the Royal Road. There were other entrances to the city. The Royal Road, though, could only be travelled by those of Vasquer blood. It was not strictly enforced, but the gate only opened for royalty.

The gargantuan gold gates of the Royal Road parted as Induen approached with his carriage. Induen pulled his head back inside the carriage and lowered the black curtains. Two of the royal guards sat with him in the carriage, vigilant as ever. Outside, a great number of them guarded the carriage, golden armor matched with similarly decorated horses. It was a procession worthy of the heir to the throne.

Atop the gate to the Royal Road, a woman wearing a wide-brimmed tellerbarret idly ate a pear. A zweihander hung from one of her feet, precariously dangling by its wide hilt. She had long orange hair, and a pretty, but significantly scarred face. Her clothes were a mix of red and gold and quite frilly, but beneath it was plate armor. The winds blew fierce up so high, but there was no walkway here; evidently, she had climbed to where she was. No one seemed to notice she was there.

Induen’s carriage passed beneath the gate. The woman kicked up the gargantuan zweihander and caught it, turning her body to the other side of the gate. Far ahead, where the Royal Road exited Dirracha and entered the Dragon Palace, a great host blocked the path. They held a white banner bearing a golden lion. Margrave Reinhardt stood at the head of the group, blocking all entry to the palace.

One of the royal knights knocked on the side of Induen’s carriage and poked his head in. “Prince Induen. Margrave Reinhardt is blocking the Royal Road with his knights.”

“What?” Induen said in exasperation. He did not bother to look. “Keep moving. If they refuse to move, refuse to stop.”

Being on the Royal Road was not illegal—the common people had to pass over it to reach other portions of the city very frequently. Blocking a royal’s passage was, though, and Induen did not assume the Margrave would have the gall to do so.

Their carriage continued onwards, many of the royal knights moving to the front of the carriage in case they needed to move House Parbon’s knights from the road. Dirracha was far quieter than it usually was when a royal returned, and the tension grew as the carriage rattled up the road.

Slowly, the Margrave Reinhardt turned his back to see the coming carriage. He directed the knights to part, and they spread out along the road, leaving plenty of room for the royal carriage to pass. The Margrave stayed in the middle of the road, holding the banner of the golden lion high.

The woman sitting atop the gate of the Royal Road had her zweihander across her lap as she continued to chew away at the pear. She watched the scene below her with a great deal of interest.

Another knock came, and the royal guard spoke again. “The Margrave’s knights have stood aside, Prince Induen.”

“Pfft.” Induen scoffed. “Cowards. With that little resolve, his brother is as good as dead.” He scratched at his chin. The knight nodded his head and pulled away from the carriage, but Induen caught his shoulder.

“Hold a moment. Tell the men….” Induen paused, thinking. “Tell the men to take off their helmets. Have them spit on the knights as they walk by,” he ordered amusedly.

“Prince Induen…?” the knight said in confusion.

“It’s a command. Do it,” Induen said with finality.

“Yes, my prince,” the knight said hastily, pulling away from the carriage. Induen heard the order being relayed outside and smiled from within the carriage. He raised the curtains a little, watching the spectacle outside.

The royal knights removed their helmets and made unpleasant guttural noises. Then, they strayed from the carriage. They spat thick globs of saliva on the knights of Parbon. Induen could see their grip tighten on the banners they held, squeezed so tightly that the wood was breaking. He chuckled from within the carriage.

Despite the blatant provocation, the knights of House Parbon remained firm. Reinhardt stared coldly, anger rising on his face, but he did not order his men to act. He had instructed them long in advance to bear with whatever shame the royal family hoisted upon them; ultimately, the power of the kingdom relied on the will of its people. Let the royal family make a fool of themselves.

Atop the royal gate, the woman had finished all but the core of her pear. She stood, holding both arms wide as she balanced on the precarious height. Then, she planted both feet firmly, turned to the side, and threw the pear in a softball pose. Suddenly, a great gust of wind flew from behind her. She was tossed from the gate, but she quickly jabbed her zweihander into the side of the gate, barely stopping herself from plummeting below.

The pear soared forth, carried by the wind. It spun wildly in the air, a distant speck of green under the dual suns in the sky. It would not have gone especially far without the wind; a freak occurrence, perhaps, or more likely some terrible twist of fate. Just after a royal knight had finished spitting, it struck him in the cheek, exploding. He reeled, roaring in surprise, before drawing the sword on his belt.

The Margrave’s knights stepped away, startled. The royal knight swung his blade ferociously. It veritably whistled through the air. Though House Parbon’s knights were fierce, the royal knights were a different breed. The sword sheared through a banner and tore through steel plate, cutting a deep gash into one of the knight’s chest plates.

Pandemonium ensued. The line of House Parbon’s knights descended on the royal knights like a locust plague. Induen opened the carriage door and stepped outside, a smile on his face. He held his hand up and conjured a battle-axe from thin air that shone with magic.

Induen laughed heartily. “Maybe the Margrave’s not so spineless after all. Today is a good day.”

The girl threw herself back atop the gate, huffing and holding her zweihander tight. She peered back out into the city, spotting the distant fighting with wide eyes. She, of course, had no idea that the pear she threw had been the cause.

“Oh, gods be damned,” she cursed. “This means… well, I’d say it’s time to go!” she said, holding her sword tight as she started to slide down the arch of the gate.

“Wait,” she spoke aloud, coming to a sudden stop. “If this means war… they might need mercenaries.” She looked back towards the fighting. Though the royal knights were far more skilled and better equipped, the knights of House Parbon were many, and still grand combatants themselves. It was difficult to tell which way the fight would end.

“Hold,” the girl said again. “Which side? If I pick the losing side…” she quibbled, biting her lips. “Forget this. Just get out of here.” She dropped from the gate, moving as nimbly as a monkey despite one of her hands being held down by a gargantuan greatsword.

Back on the Royal Road, Induen tore through the knights of House Parbon with reckless abandon. He blocked one knight’s blow with the haft, then kicked the knight away before jamming the conjured axe’s spike in his eye. He threw the axe and it soared above the head of a royal knight to bisect one of the knights of Parbon. He conjured another, preparing to meet his next foe.

Out of the corner of his eye, Margrave Reinhardt jumped above one of the knights, the banner of House Parbon still held tight in his hands. He used it as a spear, jabbing it towards Induen. The prince blocked it with the blade of the conjured axe, staggering a few steps backward.

“You bastard!” Reinhardt shouted. “Do you know what this means!?”

“For you, or for me?” Induen yelled back, laughing. He held his hand out, sending a blade of wind hurtling forth. The Margrave ducked it, tossing aside the banner and grabbing a blade from a fallen royal knight. He kicked a helmet that had been dropped on the ground towards Induen.

Induen swatted the helmet aside, and the Margrave surged forth like a crimson grizzly bear. The royal knights all broke free from their fight, rushing to intercept the Margrave. Induen, undaunted, stepped forward to meet the Margrave.

Reinhardt’s scavenged blade fell upon the prince’s battle-axe. The magical weapon shattered instantly, and the prince stepped back to dodge the tip of the blade. The Margrave stepped forward as though this was expected, delivering a quick jab to the prince’s face. He started, clutching his nose in surprise.

Induen held his hand out, conjuring a complex spell matrix. A prism of ice formed, rotating fiercely and firing spikes intermittently at the Margrave. Reinhardt took a step back, dodging a blow from one of the royal knights. He seized his attacker and held him in front of him, and the ice spikes met the royal knight’s golden armor. It was well-enchanted to ward against magic, but the royal knight still coughed blood from the force of the impact.

The tide of battle surged towards the Margrave and the prince, both knights vying to protect their master. The Margrave held the royal knight tightly, pushing forth against the still-firing ice spikes. Prince Induen started to conjure another battle-axe, but the Margrave threw the blade he held. Induen fell on his back to dodge it.

Reinhardt cast aside the royal knight he held, breaking free from the crowd of gold-armored royal knights. His ruby eyes shone with the ferocity of a wild animal as he rushed at Induen. The crown prince summoned a barrier, and the Margrave grabbed into his boot to retrieve a gleaming white knife. He stabbed the barrier, and sparks flew briefly before it shattered.

Induen, flat on his back, raised his foot and kicked aside the Margrave’s dagger. It flew away, jamming into the wall of a nearby building. The Margrave stepped and stomped at his face, but Induen blocked it with his arm.

Induen prepared to grab Reinhardt’s foot the next time it came down at him, but to his surprise, the Margrave walked past him. He stood atop the carriage wheel of Induen’s vehicle, cupped his hands to his mouth, and shouted, “Retreat! Return to Parbon! Prepare for war!”

His last sentence, ‘prepare for war,’ seemed to echo throughout all of Dirracha. Induen came to his feet, ready to fight the Margrave more, but a tide of golden-armored royal knights surged in front of him, shields at the ready. The Margrave led his troops down the Royal Road, and the royal knights remained protecting their master. They proceeded unimpeded, the forces at Dirracha inadequate to prevent their escape.

Induen caressed his tender arm. “Suppose he’s not a famous general for nothing. Felt like fighting Orion,” he commented. “Let it be known that House Parbon are enemies of Vasquer!” he shouted aloud, walking to the wall and retrieving the knife still jammed deep inside. He pulled it out and pressed his finger against the tip.