Kingdom of Raine (Chapter Four)

Chapter 4

Still airborne, Viesen threw his fist into a sentry’s face. A cry of agony escaped the sentry when Viesen’s knees dug into his chest. He had knocked the man over, cleverly using him to break his fall. The captain grabbed the spear from his beaten victim, and rolled several feet away from the rest of them. With a quick rotating movement, he brought himself to his feet and jabbed the spear at the air in front of him. Viesen’s knuckles turned white from gripping the wooden shaft so tightly. He was ready to use deadly force. The library allowed only for three men to stand against him at a time. After seeing their comrade pulverized, none of them dared approach the captain.
Viesen stood wide-eyed, ready for any movement from his foes. This is a test, he thought. The Chancellor commanded these people to test my abilities. He had done this to the general. Failure means death. Sweat began to seep from his face. Nine more and I’m all alone. Lieson got up from his chair and positioned himself behind the soldiers.
“Attack him,” he commanded.
This is it… Viesen’s mind trembled with anticipation as the three sentries closest to him charged with their spears in front of them.
The action was quick and unexpected. Viesen ripped the fur coat from his back and threw at the men. With the sentries temporarily blinded, the captain leaped into the air, swinging the spear forwards. The sentry in the center wailed as the spear-pole crushed his shoulder. He fell to the ground writhing in pain. Another swift motion followed; Viesen jumped back and threw a fury of stabs at the two remaining sentries. They inched backwards, unable to match his speed and stamina.
“All of you! Advance,” Lieson commanded.
The sentries crowded together pointing their spears towards Viesen in a phalanx formation, four in front and four in back. They took a step, forcing the captain to retreat to a wall. He desperately absorbed his surroundings to find a way to overcome these enemies. He was boxed in; the bookshelves were two feet away on both sides, and eight spears approached, step by step.
Time slowed down for Viesen. He imagined the sight of his dead body. Eight spears crucifying him against the wall behind him. No! I won’t be defeated. These men were untrained and unarmored. He could see fear in their eyes. They could be overcome.
Viesen feigned madness and let out a bone-chilling howl. The sentries twitched back with stupefied expressions. Seeing his chance, Viesen charged forward with unnatural speed. His spear stabbed a man in his foot. The other men flinched at the sight of blood. With another ungodly burst of speed, Viesen wrestled a spear out of another sentry’s hands and swung it upwards, striking his jaw. Six to go. Viesen had gained ground on them, two spears swinging. They don’t have a chance, he thought.
A shuffling came from behind Lieson. More of them, thought Viesen. He dreaded the thought of dying in this scum-pit. A jubilant smile fell over his face as he saw Xander appear through the doorway and tackle Lieson to the ground. The five Raine soldiers shuffled in after him, taking the attention away from their captain.
The sentries didn’t have time to turn around and counter them. Spears were useless in this enclosed space. A savage fistfight broke out. Viesen and his men disabled the standing sentries while Xander fought to keep Lieson on the ground. After a few moments, it was over. The sentries were not a challenge for these trained warriors.
Viesen signaled his men to put the wounded sentries against the wall behind him as he reclaimed his black fur coat from the floor. They did as he commanded and took another safety precaution: the spears were piled together a safe distance from the wounded group. Lieson stopped struggling when he saw Viesen towering over him. Xander stood back and let the statesmen rise to his feet.
“I have passed Dominian’s test,” he said.
Lieson staggered backwards as if the words pierced him. “How could you know? The test is one of the chancellor’s most guarded secrets.” He had a fear on his face that revealed an unbending respect for the captain.
“I need not explain myself to you,” said Viesen. “Show me the true message. The one that cannot be seen by unworthy eyes.” Lieson nodded and reached into his sleeve once more. He procured an envelope with a red seal, the royal seal. Viesen smiled. “We will now leave.” He walked past Lieson with his men behind him with the aura of command surrounding him.
“W-wait,” Lieson stammered. “The chancellor ordered me to do this. I had to know for sure that you were the one they call Viesen, captain of the king’s guard.” Viesen stopped and turned to face him.
“Rest assured, I am he. You are forgiven.” Viesen turned back and walked out to the main hallway. He motioned some servants to fetch their horses and walked out the front doors. They mounted their steeds and left. Lieson stood in his empty doorway watching the soldier’s disappear from view. A terrible feeling in his gut made him think that he had done something terribly wrong. He offended the king’s own man. A sigh full of disdain escaped him as he shut the door, and entered his domain. Following orders can be a terrible burden, he thought. Just then, he hollered to a servant: “Fetch me a cup of water! My stomach rumbles, and the house needs cleaning.”
Clef sat, bored to death in his cell. From his left, he could feel a creepy stare penetrate him. The other prisoner watched him with dark eyes. Clef suspected that the boredom tortured this man even more than it did to him. Trying to ignore the death-stare, he retreated into his mind.
Memories passed through him from his childhood, before he came to this land. Back then, the sun seemed to shine everyday. An image of his old home came to him. A deep valley, rich with greenery, nestled in a low, but rocky, mountain range. A thin river crept down the valley flowing past his grandfather’s house. The man had a sickly appearance. He had three sticks for legs, including his cane. His face was a cold empty abyss, except for when he smiled. It revealed his true and kind nature. I miss him. If only he hadn’t died. Then we would have never had to leave. He tried to imagine what his life would be life if he had never left. Playing all his days with the children from a close village. Becoming a man with a purpose: a clear defined future. Why do people die? Clef asked himself. When he was unable to answer the question, he moved on.
His grandfather had wealth, not in money, but in possessions. Before Clef’s parents were even born, his grandfather and grandmother had been tailors. They sewed clothes and tapestries for the rich. It was a time-consuming trade. The reward came with the wealth. Clef looked down at his shirt. It used to be white, some buttons were missing, and there was a tear on the right shoulder. “When you’re in need of clothes, find a tailor. You know you’re lucky I’m around to give them to you! There’s nothing in this world worse than a bad pair of pants,” his grandfather had said. A smile formed on Clef’s face.
“Anima.” The voice came from his left. It reminded Clef of a wispy wind, toneless but forceful. Clef’s eyelids opened up to meet the death-stare once again.
He glanced at Jasper. Asleep, he noted. Clef continued to examine the man in the cell farthest from him. He wore an elegant black robe with white underclothes. He could see no color in his eyes. Perhaps it’s just the shadows in this place, he thought. Gray messy hair ravaged his scalp, completing the image of a madman. Clef opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off.
“Anima,” the man repeated.
“What?” Clef demanded. “Is that your name, Anima?” He hesitated for a second. “My name is Clef.” A blank stare was his answer. No, he thought.
“My name is Master Petal,” he said in the same wispy voice. “You may call me Petal.” Clef was intrigued and began to ask another question when he was interrupted yet again. “Anima. She’s in the chest. The chief put her there.” He paused. “I know you want her… I sense you are worthy.”
“What… or who, is Anima?” Clef asked hushing his voice so that Jasper would not wake up. Petal shifted in his cell and got closer to the bars.
“Anima is the beginning. She brings fire. Anima is power.”
“Stop talking in riddles,” he replied. A knowing smile formed on Petal’s face.
“All will be revealed in time. I will be confined to this cell far longer than you will. I’m confident you have an arrangement for a breakout. One like yourself would.”
What does he mean, like me? Clef thought. He ignored the question, sensing that the answer would only sprout many more. His eyes spotted the lock on the chest. He had no way of breaking through it. Erwin had no hammer, and the keys were on the chief. There was no way of opening the chest without first incapacitating Jasper, and that was to be avoided at all costs. It would make me a fugitive in this entire region, he thought. Such a thing had happened to several men he had known and never heard from again. “How do I open it?” Clef asked.
Petal was expecting the question. “You will need a key. That key.” He pointed to the key chain in Jasper’s pocket.
“How do I get them?”
“I suppose you’ll need to show that chief what you’re made of. A strong whack on the skull should give you the time necessary to take the keys and open the chest.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.” A moment passed. That was a lie, he thought.
“You must!” Petal’s voice suddenly became louder, almost controlling. Clef caught the desperation in him. He began to probe this mystery.
“Why should I? I don’t even know what it is!”
“You must! Anima needs a new master.” His voice whimpered like a child who longed for a piece of candy. “My time in this world is coming to an end. I am weak and decrepit.” Clef was surprised at this. The man didn’t look older than fifty years, but the deepness of his eyes told him otherwise.
“You want to give it… her to me?”
“Yes!” Petal said in his hushed voice. “She is too precious to lay here with this pig!” It was clear to Clef that this man despised the chief.
He talks about Jasper as if he weren’t even human, he thought. Then, he asked himself the most important question. What is Anima? Maybe it’s some sort of trick, an evil sort of thing that eats your spirit. He chuckled to himself. I’ve heard fantastic tales from the merchants passing through our village, stories of magic and gigantic beasts. Maybe they were true. He remembered the bald man he had seen in the marketplace. He levitated that stone with only a stare! Maybe there was a way, but he could not be sure. “I’ve decided. I agree to take Anima.” He studied Petal’s face. “…Under one condition.” Petal’s face betrayed a hint of worry and desperation. “You tell me right now, a straight answer. What is Anima?” Petal’s face relaxed. Clef was confident he would receive an answer, one that would finally make everything clear.
“Anima…” he began. “… She is a special thing with many uses.” Bony hands rubbed against the old man’s chin. “The simplest of which is death. Anima is a weapon unlike any other.”
So that’s it, Clef thought. It’s a special weapon that he doesn’t want to give to Jasper. The oaf would probably sell it to anyone who was willing to pay a large fee, a damned hypocrite! Clef sighed and nodded. “You don’t need to worry,” Clef said. “Before I leave this place, I’ll be sure to take it with me.”
“Good! I’m confident you’ll use Anima to her fullest potential.” His lips spread into a grateful smile as he lay back against the solid wall and closed his eyes. A tired visage consumed him. Clef concluded that this man was in his final years. Shadows moved outside the jailhouse. The sun had set again. Clef heard the trotting of horses against the dirt road and thought of the captain.
On the outskirts of Roen, Viesen led his men into a bar. They entered for a quick rest. A murmur passed through the men and women who were already inside. An obvious discomfort spread among them. They are afraid, thought the captain. And they should be. He held the envelope in his hand, still unopened. Why do I hesitate, he wondered. Searching for an answer deep within him, he sat alone at a table on the far end of the bar. I, too, am afraid, he concluded. Whatever this message says, it must change everything. Why else would the Chancellor need an especially worthy man, a man able to conquer unbeatable odds? His fingers finally grasped the seal and broke it open. We all seem to fear change. But cannot afford fear. The parchment was pulled out and unfolded.
“The Kingdom of Raine calls upon you, Captain Viesen, to fulfill your duty. You have passed my test. I was confident in your success. Your strength and cunning are called to lead a most venturous enterprise for our forces. A new technology has been acquired from Opius, the nation that resides over the western ocean. It is an amazing and mind-bending sight. This machine will surely give us the advantage in our campaign into the south. The kingdom of Savant lies beyond the Freyant Mountains, posing a threat to our sovereignty in this land. I need a captain, such as your self to command the most spectacular device of war our age has seen yet. Upon your arrival in Venias, you will be promoted to captain of the Blue Robin, Raine’s first airship. ~ Supreme Chancellor of the Kingdom of Raine, Lord Dominian”