Chapter 713: The Last Hunt
The guards accelerated their pace, trying to close the gap between them and the elusive creature. But the white deer, seemingly a master of these woods, darted effortlessly between the trees, leaping gracefully over roots and branches, always keeping just out of reach. Its movements were fluid, almost as if it were a part of the forest itself, and the hunters found themselves struggling to keep up.
The emperor, however, was relentless. With a bow in his hands and his eyes locked on the deer, he was consumed by a single thought: the creature must be his, no matter the cost. He pulled back the bowstring and released an arrow, but the deer, with a swift and elegant turn, dodged the projectile with ease, continuing its escape deeper into the forest.
Undeterred, the emperor nocked another arrow and pulled back the string again. This time, though, something was different. His arms felt heavier, his breath came in short, labored gasps, and his heart pounded faster than ever. His vision began to blur, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Despite these signs, he stubbornly released the arrow, but it lacked the strength of the first shot, falling short and striking a tree with a dull thud.
Determined to make the next shot count, the emperor tried once more, but his third arrow missed its mark entirely. His hands trembled as he attempted to draw his bowstring for a fourth time, but his strength had ebbed to the point where he could barely pull it back. His arms shook uncontrollably, and he could feel his energy draining away with each passing moment.
Sensing that something was terribly wrong, the guards quickly closed in on the emperor, offering their concern. "Your Majesty, please, we urge you to take a break!"
But their words fell on deaf ears. The emperor was beyond reason, his mind fixated solely on the white deer, which still danced tantalisingly before him, just out of reach. His focus was so intense that everything else faded into the background—except for the burning need to claim his prize.
As he struggled to pull the bowstring one last time, it became clear that his body could no longer obey his will. His muscles refused to cooperate, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t summon the strength to release another arrow. The emperor was severely dehydrated, his vision darkening at the edges as his body betrayed him in this crucial moment.
The emperor was severely dehydrated.
Suddenly, Antonius felt something snap inside him, as if a vital string had broken. The world around him began to spin wildly, his vision rapidly darkening, and he felt the strength drain from his hands. Even in this state, a fierce determination remained—an unrelenting desire to catch the white deer, as if the animal were the key to extending his life and legacy. But this time, fate would not grant him his wish. The ground seemed to pull him down, and within moments, he found himself collapsing from his mount, hitting the earth with a sickening thud.
To the guards surrounding the emperor, the sight was nothing short of catastrophic. They had just witnessed the very man they were sworn to protect lose consciousness and fall from his horse while it was still galloping at full speed. They knew all too well the severity of such a fall; even the most skilled rider could not escape unscathed.
In a panic, they abandoned the chase for the white deer. The elusive creature, as if mocking them, paused momentarily to glance back at the fallen emperor and the frantic guards before it gracefully disappeared into the forest.
The guards leaped from their horses, shouting, "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" as they rushed to the emperor’s side. The sight that greeted them was grim—Antonius lay motionless, his face smeared with blood, his eyes tightly shut despite their desperate attempts to rouse him.
"Quick, get the emperor to the nearest doctor!" one of them cried out in alarm.
"The emperor can’t ride horseback any longer!" another guard objected as someone tried to lift the emperor back onto a horse. "Any more jolting could have devastating consequences!"
"Then what do you suggest?" the first guard retorted. "Leave him here to bleed? How are we supposed to carry him back?"
The guards were paralysed by indecision, each fearing to make the wrong choice in this critical moment.
Suddenly, a faint voice emerged from the old emperor, barely audible. "Get me... water... Get me home... as soon..."
With those words, Antonius fell silent again, his parched lips closing as he drifted back into unconsciousness.
The guards carefully placed the emperor on a horse, with one guard holding him tightly to minimise the impact of the mount’s movements, ensuring that the jostling wouldn’t worsen the emperor’s condition. They moved as quickly as they could, but with caution, making their way out of the woods where the white deer had long since disappeared, leaving no trace of its path.
It had taken the emperor and his hunting party a considerable amount of time to reach their location, and it took the guards even longer to navigate back through the dense forest. Finally, they emerged onto the road that connected Constantinople with Adrianople, heading eastward towards the city. It was on this road that they were met by scouts sent by Queen Anna, who had been desperately searching for them.
When the news reached the queen, her heart nearly stopped. Her face paled, and for a brief moment, she felt a wave of despair wash over her, similar to the time she had lost her father. But back then, she had Antonius by her side; now, she stood alone. However, the moment of vulnerability passed quickly, and she regained her composure, issuing rapid orders.
"Send three carriages with the fastest horses available, each equipped with fresh cushions and well-covered. Dispatch the cavalry to ensure that no one tracks the emperor’s movements, and make sure no one sees him being brought back in this condition. Bring the court physicians with all necessary medications and supplies. The carriages must leave immediately, and the supplies will follow with riders. Go!"
One of the messengers hurried off to carry out the orders, while another asked, "Do we need to close all the gates, Your Majesty? Just in case?"
"No!" Anna replied firmly. "The citizens still remember the Great Purge. Imposing another lockdown would only spread fear and destabilise the situation. We must maintain the appearance of normalcy and control. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" the messenger responded before leaving to execute her commands.
Once the room had cleared, Anna was left alone. She leaned heavily against the table, her emotions overwhelming her. Tears flowed freely as she buried her face in her hands, her once vibrant curls now streaked with white, a sign of the toll the years and the weight of leadership had taken on her. It was a sobering moment, filled with the silent acknowledgement of the immense burden that had been placed upon her shoulders. Every decision she made now felt like a tightrope walk between maintaining stability and losing everything they had fought to build.
...
Leo received the news not long after his mother, while he was immersed in the daily and weekly reports from all corners of the empire. His initial reaction mirrored what the messenger had suggested: to impose a lockdown on Constantinople, restricting movement to ensure his father’s condition remained a secret. He knew all too well that the empire, no longer expanding, was vulnerable. The borders were stretched thin, with enemies on all sides, and the population and military resources were limited.
If word of the emperor’s fall during the hunt were to spread, Leo couldn’t be certain he would be able to maintain the stability of the state. The fragility of their situation gnawed at him. He understood the delicate balance of power that held the empire together, a balance that could easily tip into chaos if the wrong people got wind of the emperor’s weakened state.
Taking several deep breaths, Leo surveyed the generals and courtiers around him. They were still unaware of the dire situation, but Leo couldn’t shake the feeling that not all of them could be trusted. The young regent felt an overwhelming sense of uncertainty as he scrutinised each face, trying to discern their true intentions. Were they loyal to the crown, or were they merely opportunists waiting for the right moment to strike? His mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last.
His elbows rested on the desk, hands clasped tightly in front of him, as he prepared to navigate the uncertain path ahead. He realised that the empire’s future now rested heavily on his shoulders. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him like never before. He needed to act decisively, but also wisely, understanding that one wrong move could lead to disaster.
Now, what would his father do, if in this situation?
