#FridayFlash – The Monarch
This piece follows on from last week’s flash, The Tower.
Artemuse stood in the Throne Room of the Great Palace, hands bound behind her back. She had donned her cloak of feathers before she was arrested in the Bell Tower. Two of the Palace Guards flanked her, brandishing their halberds as though she were a threat to the realm. The guard from the Bell Tower stood to one side, sullen and sporting a new bruise around his left eye, punished for sleeping on the job.
The Monarch sat before them, his throne on a raised dais below a vast stained glass window. He glared at the Bell Tower guard, before turning his gaze to Artemuse. He pursed his lips as though her very presence polluted the Throne Room.
“You rang the Death Knell. Without permission.”
“There wasn’t time to seek permission. Forces approach from the north, Your Majesty.”
“So you say.”
Artemuse scowled. She knew the Monarch was a near-sighted moron whose favourite place to bury his head was the sand, but she had hoped that even he might realise she wouldn’t ring the Death Knell unless it was absolutely vital.
“None of my guards have seen these approaching forces.”
“They’re only looking with their eyes, Your Majesty.”
The Queen leaned across to her husband’s throne, and laid a hand on his arm. She whispered something beneath her breath before she spoke aloud.
“Artemuse is a talented Astral Mage, my dear.”
“So you say.”
The Queen rolled her eyes and sat back in her own throne, a smaller and less ornate copy of the Monarch’s seat of power. Artemuse frowned. The Queen was a powerful mage in her own right, specialising in water magic. If the Monarch wouldn’t listen to her, then he certainly wouldn’t listen to Artemuse. The situation required brutal honesty.
“Your Majesty, if I may be frank, these forces are on their way and they will arrive at the city in two days – maybe less, considering all of these delays. You must raise the army and meet them on the Lesian Plains. The element of surprise will be your best weapon.” Artemuse glared at the Monarch.
“You have rung the Death Knell and so roused the Vaal’kyr. They will be upon us in hours – surely they will be adequate protection?”
Rhodenius was a bustling metropolis, often considered the very epitome of life itself, but it had its foundations within an ancient necropolis, and its roots lay in the old Death Cult that once ruled the area. The Vaal’kyr were the last remnants of the Cult, winged protectors of the city. Legend said they would only respond to the Death Knell – but their assistance often came with a price.
“They will help, but the oncoming forces have their own astral beings. The Vaal’kyr cannot fight the living and the dead at the same time. They need backup from the army to take care of the living warriors.”
The Monarch furrowed his brow, and a flicker of hope sparked in Artemuse’s heart. The spark died as he gave her a customary haughty look.
“I will take what you say under advisement – it is worth investigation at least. However, it must be borne in mind that you have roused the Vaal’kyr without permission or authorisation, and they will demand payment. It seems fitting that we should give them…you.”
“My dear! You cannot give Artemuse to the Vaal’kyr!” The Queen clutched the Monarch’s arm.
The Monarch fell silent and flicked his hand at his guards. They marched Artemuse out of the Throne Room, and along the warren of corridors that led away from the shining heart of the Palace. For a few moments Artemuse could hear the Queen bellowing insults at the Monarch, but the walls thickened as they descended towards the dungeons, and the shouts faded into whispers.
“Is it true what you said, about the banners? And the skulls?” The guard to her right broke the silence.
“All of it was true.”
“That’s Lord Draumir.” The guard to her left spoke now, awe colouring his tones in the dim light of the corridor that led to the cells.
“It is.”
“But…he leaves nothing left alive. Someone has to do something.” The guard to her right fell out of step with her.
“I tried, but you heard what the Monarch said.”
Suddenly her bonds loosened, and her arms fell freely at her sides. She looked down at the severed knot, and turned to face the guards.
“Go. We’ll come up with a story.” The guard who’d cut her bonds gestured back up the corridor towards the square of light that was the lower tier of the Palace.
“What would be plausible?” asked the other guard.
“Tell them that I appeared to faint, and you paused to check if I was still breathing, but then you were both knocked unconscious – you believe that I attacked you on the astral plane. When you woke up I was gone. The Queen – tell the Queen. She will understand what I mean.”
The guards nodded. Artemuse smiled, and turned to run up the corridor. There was one other person in Rhodenius who might help her, and she didn’t have much time.
Continues next week…
Image by Teslacoils, edits by me.
