Kingdom of Raine (Chapter Three)

Chapter 3

Viesen stood next to Clef in Roen. They were in a busy marketplace, waiting on the five soldiers pleasuring themselves with the many exotic goods the town had to offer. Xander had stayed behind with the horses; Viesen knew he was the most competent of this group. Dust was continuously being kicked up by people and two-wheeled carts. Wooden booths lined the marketplace in a seemingly endless maze. Clef spied a hunched old man pulling a cart along. The cart was loaded with fantastic animals in tight cramped cages. He was amazed to see monkeys, parrots, and even a white bat. The small cart disappeared around a corner, so Clef shifted his attention to the other spectacles unfolding around him. There was a bald man with reddish-brown eyes sitting on a carpet. Several townspeople were gathered around him. He put his hands out in front of him and gave a deathly stare to a polished black stone in his palm. To Clef’s amazement, the stone lifted up into the air and rotated around the man’s hand before landing back in his palm.
“Hey!” a man shouted above everyone else. “Watch where you’re going!” Clef heard a crash coming from his right. A man fell through a booth, snapping the wood with a loud crunch. It was one of them. The soldier had launched the man from more than five feet away. The other four appeared beside him. The crowd of people hushed and turned to watch.
It was a sight unlike any other. Amidst the dust, the wooden walls, and the people stood five white-faced, blue-eyed soldiers brandishing long steel swords and polished armor. They stuck out like the sun in a desert, their image inspiring fear into all that gazed upon them. Viesen kept a close eye on the action. Clef realized that nobody seemed to notice the captain. He was invisible. One of the soldiers approached the fallen man, placing a foot onto his chest. He said some words in a low, spiteful mutter. The man’s face quickly distorted into a horrified mask. The man began to beg for forgiveness. The soldier above him grinned and put an arm out to help him. Before they touched, the soldier drew back his arm and kicked the man in the stomach.
Viesen didn’t want to see any more. He grabbed Clef’s shoulder and dragged him around a street corner. Clef did not argue but went along willingly. Clef recalled the last time he had been in Roen. A few months ago, he made the mistake of stealing a sack of money from an aristocrat. They threw him into the jail for a week. He wondered if the chief of police still remembered him.
“What do you think, Clef?” Viesen asked.
“Think about what?”
Viesen smiled. “You have until we reach the jailhouse to convince me to set you free. I always give this gesture to criminals I have captured,” he said with a half humor.
“Criminals? I’m not a criminal!” Clef retorted.
“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, boy. You attempted to steal my horses… and kill one of my men.” Viesen spoke with a confidence. “I could have you sentenced to death by decapitation.”
Clef remained silent. He’s right. He thought of dozen of explanations but decided Viesen would not accept any of them. Clef smiled. Besides, Erwin is on his way to break me out. If anyone can help me, it’s him. If anything, I want to go to jail. Anything to get away from these thugs.
“What’s funny?” asked Viesen.
Clef erased the smile from his face, fearing the captain would suspect trickery. “I was just thinking about my family.” The feint had to work.
Viesen’s face softened a bit. “Ah… yes,” he said as if he had entered another world. “I had a family once. I haven’t seen them in years. Ever since…” He realized he was speaking intimately with an enemy. Not just an enemy, but a child.
Clef was also surprised by the outburst of emotion. This soldier was not as hardened and inhuman as he once thought. “Keep going,” he said. “I want to hear about your family.” Clef was truly interested what the Kingdom of Raine was like. This would give him a chance to gain some insight.
Viesen stared straight as they walked through another crowd of people, still keeping a hand locked on Clef’s shoulder. “Very well…” He sighed, then slowed his walking pace. “My father served the king long before my birth. He and my mother met in the greatest of all the cities in Raine. They weren’t expecting a child, so I was brought into the world unwanted and sent into the king’s service from the moment I could walk. My father taught me everything I know about war and combat. He was so kind to me.” Clef thought he had heard a hint of actual sadness in his voice. If it was sadness, he decided, it was well masked. “My father died in battle when I was about your age. My mother disappeared, as people do sometimes.” Clef found that odd. People usually didn’t disappear in his village, and when they did, a carcass always turned up.
Clef glanced at the captain when he stopped talking. He knew Viesen had said all that he wanted to say. Clef felt a wave of relief as he saw that they approached the jailhouse. “We’re here,” he said, faking nervousness.
“I know,” Viesen replied. “And you haven’t convinced me of a single thing.”
Clef continued to pretend. “I should have tried harder…”
“No, I would have still kicked you into that hell hole.” He snickered softly. “Don’t take offense, I do that to everyone.”
“Ha,” said Clef with a dry humor. Viesen eyed him, warning him not to push his luck any further. They walked into the jailhouse and looked around.
It was a small room with four iron-barred cells. A desk stood to Clef’s right. Behind it sat an angry-looking man with brown hair taking a nap. His body mass was even greater than the captain’s was. Clef suspected that much of it was fat, and not muscle. Viesen knocked his knuckles against the wall beside him to wake the man. The man roused and rubbed the back of his hand against his face. “Jasper, Chief of Police, at your service,” he said lazily. “What business do you have here?” One of his eyes widened awkwardly as he examined the two newcomers.
Viesen spoke to him, above him. “This boy is a criminal. I believe you’ve already been acquainted with him.” Clef cringed in his boots.
Jasper examined Clef for a moment, and then his face lit up. “Yes! It’s you, little Clef. What have your thieving hands been up to?” He snickered cruelly while getting out of his chair. “What’s he done this time?”
“He and a group of thieves attack my squad. We captured the boy, the rest got away.” Viesen watched Clef’s reaction. He was ashamed of what he had done.
The chief walked over to a cell and opened it up. “After you,” he said gesturing towards the metal bars.
When Clef did not move, Viesen shoved him forward. “Maybe it’ll teach you to earn a living the right way.” Sulking, Clef entered the cell, which was immediately shut and locked. Jasper put the keys into his pocket. Viesen looked into Clef’s eyes once more and saw the defiant rage of a warrior. With a satisfied smirk, he stepped out of the jailhouse and made his way back to his companions.
Jasper walked over to Clef’s cell. “What is it, another week of grime for breakfast and a hard bed? That should do it,” he said with a raspy voice.
Clef didn’t say anything. He was still lingering on the captain’s comment. What does he mean the right way? This is the only way! He sat against the far wall of his cell ignoring the chief. Jasper got bored and grunted, moving back to his position behind the desk. With little else to do, Clef examined his surroundings.
There was another person in the cell farthest away from him. He was lying on his wooden bench, apparently asleep. His hair was thin and messy while his clothes were neat and smooth. Clef found this very interesting. There were windows in the jailhouse, one for every cell. Each had iron bars, even the two windows outside the actual cells. Clef finally locked his eyes on an object on the far side of the room, shrouded by the shadows. An iron chest with a giant lock sat in the corner. It seemed to call out to him: “Open me!” He sat staring at the chest until Jasper caught him.
“What are you lookin’ at?” he hollered, waking the other prisoner. “Take your eyes off my chest, right now!” He glared at Clef, who remained unmoved. He threw a small pebble at the boy’s head.
“Ow!” he whimpered lowering his eyes. Hate overcame him. He would never make the mistake of testing the chief’s patience again. Still, his mind lingered on the chest. He needed to open it. Jasper returned to his nap. Clef deduced that guarding prisoners couldn’t be much fun.
Meanwhile, Viesen, reunited with his compatriots, made his way towards the outskirts of town where they had left their horses. When they arrived, Xander was relieved to see them. Viesen ordered the men to mount their horses. They were going to into the center of town, to the aristocratic statesmen of the town.
They filed into the streets, one behind the other, attracting much attention. It took them thirty minutes to get through all of the crowds in the poor sections. Once they reached the center of town, Viesen understood why they were so poor. Marble walls surrounded the rich men’s estates. Iron gates guarded each of the twenty or so houses. They all converged in the center to one grand building. The gates opened for the soldiers of Raine without them having to stop. They rode through, into what looked like another world. There were flowers and small bushes around this grand estate. Two large wooden doors marked the entrance to the building. This is where Viesen needed to go.
After he dismounted, two servants opened the doors, filed out, and took his horse. They did the same for the rest of the riders. Viesen stared at them for a moment when a shrill voice came from the doorway.
“Don’t be alarmed, Captain of Raine. Your steeds will be taken to our stables.” A round man, pale skin, blue-eyed, held the door open. He was garbed in a long robe that hid his feet. “Please enter.”
Viesen and his men trudged into the building. The interior was elegant and grand. Tall ceilings were decorated with intricate tapestries. The floor shone with the reflection of candlelit chandeliers that hung in tripods. A grand and awe-inspired air permeated the room, the likes of which he had only seen in the king’s own palace.
“If you’ll follow me, captain. We have a message for you.” He began to follow the man. The men behind him also followed as well. “No,” said the robed man. “Just the captain.” Viesen put his arm out signaling them to stay and continued to another room.
They entered a private library with two chairs facing each other. The rug on the floor had a flowery gold and blue design. Viesen sat down in the chair closest to him, and his host sat across from him.
“My name is Lieson… and you are Captain Viesen,” he talked in a testing voice. Viesen simply nodded, wanting him to get on with the point of excluding his men. Noting his hastiness, Lieson addressed the issue at hand. “We have received a letter addressed to yourself from Dominion, Chancellor of Raine.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a piece of folded parchment. There was no seal. Viesen deduced that this man must have opened the letter out of curiosity. With a flick of his wrist, the letter was tossed into Viesen’s lap. The captain picked it up and unfolded it with his fingers. His eyes scanned the letter, there was no mistake; it came from the chancellor. He had to look over it again, and read it to himself “Captain Viesen, you are ordered to arrive in the holy city, Venias, within a week. You must depart from your location immediately. Upon your arrival you will be promoted. We desperately need men of great skill and cunning in this time of peril. The new crisis that has developed will be explained upon your arrival. Good luck. ~ Supreme Chancellor of the Kingdom of Raine, Lord Dominian” Viesen’s eyes drifted upwards to Lieson’s. He was horrified to find a sadistic smile on his face.
“What is the meaning of this?” Viesen demanded.
With a snap of Lieson’s fingers, ten armed sentries filed into the room, holding Viesen at spear point. Lieson got to his feet and paced in front of the captain. “You will not move. You will not speak. You will only listen, it is the only way to get out of this alive.” I’ll be damned, the captain thought. In one smooth motion, he launched himself over a spear, risking everything on a hunch.