Chapter
11
Ricarde helped Marlo to his feet and looked up at the dark blue, Demengo, night sky as he released his hands. “It’s been a long time,” Ricarde said with a hint of nostalgia, “I never thought I would have to return here. However, I’ve found something over the past few days that I just can’t let go.” Ricarde looked to Marlo and smiled. “Marlo, you and the others are the only civilians who’ve accepted me as a comrade. Ever since I was exiled twelve years ago, I’ve been looking for a way to rebuild my life…start anew. Over the years, I’ve traveled from forest to forest, living in seclusion, thriving off of nature, hoping to survive for just a few more days. I can’t go back to that anymore, it gave me nothing but emptiness.” For a second, Marlo thought he saw a tear slide down Ricarde’s face. “I’ve decided to break the covenant I made twelve years ago. I got worried, came to town and heard a few rumors about you and the others.” Ricarde spotted a guard not far off and whispered to Marlo, “That’s enough from me, we’ve no time to spare, the other’s won’t fit through that hole. We have to sneak into the palace. I’ve seen your stealth skills in action. Let’s go.” Ricarde put his back against the palace wall and slid around a corner. Marlo leaned down and whispered to Darq and Gello that he would return with help, and not to worry.
Ricarde knew his way around the outside of the palace well and made it to a window near the courtyard. It was still dark outside, so it was no trouble for him to sneak around without being seen. He cut a careful hole with his axe in five seconds, put his hand through it, unlocked the window, and snuck in. Marlo followed close behind. The room they entered was a small breakfast nook, with a rectangular table in the center. The candles were unlit, but some light emanated from under the wooden door. Ricarde made a ‘shush’ signal to Marlo and slowly turned the Demengo ruby knob. When the knob turned a complete revolution, Ricarde opened the door. It was not but one second later that five pikes were pointed at his throat, and he was arrested by the Demengo Royal Guard. Marlo, however, was not caught, he hid behind a large, red, Southern Kronusian plant and snuck out of the room, unseen and unheard.
“It would appear that my methods are still taught here today. Hahaha. Expect the unexpected. I am not surprised.” Ricarde chuckled to himself as he was brought peacefully down a palace corridor and into the main hall. The walls were solid Demengo gold, and all around hung red banners with “Terone” all over them. One throne sat at the end of the golden room, isolated, and solitary. The guards threw him onto a red carpet not but two feet away from that throne, and away from the feet of King Terone.
“Dearest Ricarde,” Terone said with false glee, “Oh how I’ve awaited his moment. Oh…pardon me.” Terone snapped his fingers, and the guards vanished without a single trace. “Now that I have you all to myself, I think I’m going to enjoy this moment of truth.” Terone watched Ricarde’s every wiggle in his bindings. “There is no need to try to escape Ricarde….It’s useless. The bindings from your days as a General have been long obsolete. Since then, new devices have been invented to hold brutes such as yourself. Now then, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Ricarde looked up, and then lowered his head instantly. “Sire,” he said, “I have only returned to retrieve some companions of mine sire. I mean no harm sire.”
“Friends eh? I don’t see how that’s possible. Not after your conviction for the murder of King Herencius IV.”
“Yes sire. I do not comprehend the possibility either sire.”
“Oh shut up you sniveling bastard. I can’t believe you haven’t seen it yet. It’s so obvious. I expected you to say something, being the strategic genius that you were.” Ricarde looked puzzled. “Oh please. You didn’t know? You were set up you brainless dolt. You were to inherit the kingdom. Not me, his only son, but you, General De la Monté. You didn’t kill the man, I did, and happily.”
Ricarde’s face began to twitch, his fingers began to itch, and his muscles bulged in fury. The sweat on his forehead was profuse, and his bushy eyebrows lowered in anger. Terone laughed and sat back in his throne. “What are you going to do Ricarde?” Terone asked. “Look angry at me all day? Oooooh, do something lout! Don’t just sit there.” Ricarde got angrier with every word.
“You…how? I killed him. I ran him through. The blood on my armor, my axe, my hands, my soul. How can you tell me I didn’t kill the man I considered my father. How can you tell me that what I’ve regretted for years, is a lie. As much as I would love to believe you Terone, and as much as I’d love to kill you with my bare-hands…I killed the man and I deserve expulsion.”
“You were drugged you boar. Grettu slipped a sleeping drug in your daily meal, and the next thing you remember, you had the blood on you, and your axe buried in Herencius’ skull. I tell thee what De le Monté. I took that axe, and I slaughtered that undeserving swine with no remorse. Do you remember now? Think hard.”
Ricarde did think. He thought hard and long. He remembered the blood sure, but the actual fight was a blur, and when he thought hard enough to clear that blur, all he saw was a false acceptance of a thoughtless murder. Now it was clear, and vengeance was at hand.
Marlo was safe. He quietly grasped the knob of the door and turned it swiftly. He pushed the door open and jumped towards the ceiling latching onto it with his palm-claws (two brown leather straps around his hands with three razor claws protruding from the middle, in case you don’t remember). Marlo took a deep breath and began to work his way across the ceiling. The Guards were few and far between, so it was a safe trip. He was near the stairs to the basement now and saw the moldy dungeon door. This was the time for action. Marlo let his feet fall from the ceiling while he hung on with his palm-claws, then dropped down silently. He tip-toed to the dungeon door and reached for the knob, turning it slowly. His gigantic sword, and assorted weaponry had been confiscated, so he went to find it. In a dank corner, lit by the moonlight from a barred window, he saw his equipment and a set of keys lying on a small, round table. After gathering his things, he snatched the keys. He knew which cell his companions were in, and dashed towards it. “Darq….Gello! I got the keys and I’m here to get ya out!” Marlo whispered. He quietly found the right key for the key-hole, and unlocked the cell door. Darq and Gello tip-toed out.
“Marlo. Darq,” Gello said. “I don’t have a blade! How am I supposed to fight, they confiscated my sword!”
Marlo ran to the table and corner where he found his belongings, and whispered back, “I don’t see your sword here Gello. They must’ve taken it someplace else, I guess” Marlo looked around a bit more, until he found a large dagger lying on the wet, dungeon floor. He rushed over and handed it to Gello. Gello gripped the handle tightly as he grimaced, he wasn’t quite proficient in the arts of the dagger. “I think I know the way to where Ric is you guys. Follow me,” Marlo whispered as he crept out of the dungeon and leapt towards the ceiling, palm-claws extended. Darq and Gello watched, gasped, and followed hastily. The guards had mostly turned in for the night, as they expected Ricarde would be their only problem, so it was fairly clear. As they neared the entrance to the palace lobby, Marlo fell purposefully from the ceiling, and ran to the center of it. Darq and Gello followed quickly, and they all ran up the red carpet stairs. The throne room was nearby. Marlo leaned around an open corner to see Terone standing over Ricarde, slapping him repeatedly. He looked back over his shoulder and gave Darq and Gello the thumbs up signal. In a flash Marlo, pulled out his giant, razor sword, and dashed to the other side of the throne room, right past Terone’s line of sight. Terone blinked and recomposed himself, after which he resumed his abuse towards Ricard. Darq was ready for some serious combat. He tightened the red ribbon around his forehead and pulled out his hammer. Gello stared puzzlingly at his new dagger and shook his head.
“Hey Gello,” Darq whispered, “C’mon man, big guy needs us here. No one messes with our friend like that. I’ll distract him and you get him from behind alright?”
Gello nodded his head, still unsure of what to do. Darq ran into the room and stopped behind Ricarde. Terone stared at him with a questioning eye and said, “How in blazes? How did you get in here! No matter, I’ll take care of you and then resume my fun.” He threw back his flowing, crimson cape, and set the Demengo crown on his tall, golden throne. Darq smiled and Gello snuck around the corner trying to position himself.
“Hey tough guy! Only a coward would smack a guy like that while he’s chained up. I bet you couldn’t even grapple with a blyte. Hahahaha!” Darq yelled across the room as he eyeballed Gello, who was trying to position himself behind Terone by sneaking along the wall.
Terone smirked and pulled out a large, golden, spiked flail from behind his throne.
“You talk big for a weakling. De Le Monté here is a criminal, and if I remember correctly, so are you. I’ll see personally to your demise pitiful creature.” Terone began spinning his spiked flail around in the air, and ran towards Darq. In response, Darq, not moving one inch, touched his hand to Manus and ignited it with a reptu ki. He held his mallet in one hand and pointed it at Terone.
Gello was but ten feet away from the King, and stood there in cowardice. Marlo clung to the ceiling with one hand and held his sword with another. He was waiting for an opening as he moved along the ceiling, trying to get closer to Terone. Gello looked to Terone’s back, then looked over at Ricarde’s bindings. “Yes!” he thought to himself. “Alright burly. Your lack of bathing and skill in battle is about to pay off!” Gello leaped towards Ricarde and sliced his bindings in half with his dagger, releasing the framed warrior from his hell. After freeing Ricarde, Gello ran like thunder towards the corridor, and disappeared. Terone was distracted and looked over at Ricarde. Big mistake. Darq jumped at him and shattered his jaw with a fiery mallet swing. Terone’s head spun (not literally) in pain. Darq raised his mallet over his shoulder quickly, and brought it down again, slamming his it once more into Terone’s dark face. Terone’s mouth was like a waterfall gushing with blood, both of his jawbones were broken and he could not retaliate fast enough. Ricarde watched in amazement. With another swing of Manus, Darq sent Terone crashing to the ground. He took three steps back and dropped Manus. His eyes met Ricarde’s and an understanding was seen. Ricarde picked up his hefty axe and walked toward Terone’s weak carcass.
“Terone…..You killed my father. Even though I may not be his true son, I still loved him like one. You, with your cold heart, destroyed the once majestic ruler of this glorious kingdom. You stole his money, his palace, his entire life, and turned it into a mockery of all things true and just in this world. Your reign of sloth ends here….brother.” Ricarde knelt down and raised his cleaver. He brought it down swiftly, and decapitated Terone. Marlo dropped from the ceiling over the throne and grabbed the Demengo crown. He walked over to Ricarde and placed it on his head.
“Hey,” Gello said as he reentered the room, “Is this over yet ‘cause I’m ready to get outta this place!” Darq fell on his back laughing and clapped his hands. Ricarde and Marlo joined in.
That night, Ricarde and his comrades addressed the palace guards and the city of R’ahk, concerning the death of Terone and the conspiracy twelve years ago. Amazingly enough. The people were wild with applause and cheers. Ricarde had inherited the throne as was meant to be, and Terone’s red banners were torn down along with his corrupt establishment. One by one the conspirators from twelve years back were weeded out and killed. Darq and the gang rested well for at least two days before it was time to leave. King Ricarde De Le Monté provided them with an armada of five ships, the finest food, and adequate quarters for the sea voyage. Darq, Gello, and Marlo were well on their way to WaiShai.