"Are you guys done?" The commanding officer asked. It is been a few hours since he leave the rebels alone.
He opens the door slightly and takes a peek inside. The air was thick with the stench of death, causing him to have a hard time breathing.
The once grand throne hall was now a scene of horror and devastation. Deep red blood splattered all over the walls and floors. Pools of it formed around the lifeless bodies of the nobles and guards. Their faces twisted in agony, indicating the painful death they experienced. Severed limbs and heads littered the floor, adding to the gruesome scene.
It was obvious that the rebels had taken their time with the massacre, showing no mercy to people in the hall.
Despite the horrific scene in front of him, the commanding officer's expression remained stoic. He made every effort to keep his emotions under control so that shock or revulsion won't take over him.
His gaze swept the room, taking in all the detail and evaluating the situation. Everything that happen here would be reported back to the king.
Noticing the presence of the commanding officer, Basil and Wilmot whose body was heavily stained with blood greeted him, "Sir! What can we do for you?"
The commanding officer narrowed his eyes and studied the two rebel leaders for a moment before speaking. "Now that you, the rebels have accomplished your long-time goals, I want to hear what's your plan next?" asked the commanding officer.
Basil and Wilmot exchange glance with each other. "To be honest with you, we are not sure what to do next."
The commanding officer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I see," he said. "Well, I have a proposition for you. How about both of you work with Ryntum?"
Wilmot looked sceptical. "Is this your plan from the beginning?" he asked.
"It's my king's plan, actually." He corrected Wilmot. "The king believes that it will be a waste of your talent to not put it to good use."
"What about our subordinates?" Basil asked.
"They'll join the army and fight against the invasive Barlia."
Basil and Wilmot exchanged glances again, silently considering the offer.
After a moment of contemplation, Basil spoke up. "We'll do it," he said. "But, our subordinates must be treated fairly by Ryntum's soldiers."
The commanding officer nodded. "Of course, of course," he said. "I can assure you that my soldiers will happily accept them as a brother in arms. After all, they have been fighting together."
"Good, we have a deal," said Wilmot.
The commanding officer extended his hand, which Basil and Wilmot shook firmly. "Welcome aboard," he said. "I think we're going to make a great team."
"Not so fast," Basil stopped them from being too excited. "What about this city? What do we tell the people?"
"Hmm..." The commanding officer pause for a thought, "We cannot let the people fall into panic. The best way is to not let the news spread. As such, I want the rebels to stay in the palace for the time being."
Basil asked again, "Since the higher-up of the kingdom is gone, there will be a power vacuum in this city. Who's going to run the city then?"
"You," The commanding officer pointed at Basil.
....
The sun began to rise slowly in the next morning, casting a beautiful golden hue over the city. Birds chirped cheerfully, and the air was crisp and fresh. The streets were empty, and the only sound that could be heard was the gentle rustling of the leaves as a gentle breeze blew through the trees.
As the sun rises, so do the people of Wemeywesto. The city slowly began to come alive with the shopkeepers opening their stores and establishments and vendors setting up their stalls in the market. The day was normal to them, just like any other day.
They were completely unaware of the tragic events that took place in the throne hall. The palace gates were closed, and rebels disguise in the guard uniform patrolled the perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on everything. Under any circumstances, they were not allowed to let anyone except a few come near.
Among the establishments that opened, the commanding officer stop at one particular inn. He proceed to the tavern part of the inn, located on the first floor and push the door open.
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He was struck by the cosy atmosphere as soon as he entered. The morning light filtered in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden tables and chairs. Paintings and tapestries decorated the walls and a small fireplace crackled in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room.
No one was there except for the old man who was seen wiping the polished wood bar counter with a rag. He pauses and glances up at the newcomer before scanning the uniform the officer wear. With a calm face, the old man greets him with a smile, "Welcome, young man."
"Thank you, sir," The commanding officer nods and takes a seat at the bar counter. Like the old man, he scans the room for any suspicious activity. "What do you have for breakfast?"
"I'm afraid, you're too early for breakfast. We haven't started cooking yet." the old man says, still wearing a friendly smile. "But I can offer you a cup of coffee if you'd like."
"I'll take your offer." The officer replies with a grateful tone.
The old man turns to the coffee pot and begins to pour a cup for the officer. On the other hand, the officer didn't let his eyes stray away from the old man.
Last night, when the rebels are busy upholding justice, he spends some time reading an investigation report about the Blackout spies hiding in the city.
What attracts his attention the most is during the time Barlia besieged the city, many important figures who were responsible for defence suddenly died. The thing they had in common is that they visited this specific tavern a few days before their death.
"So, how long have you been living here?" The officer engages the old man in small talk, hoping for any hints or slips that may expose his true identity.
"I've been living here my whole life, young man. What about you? I can see that you're not from here." The old man's eyes flicker with curiosity.
The officer replied truthfully, "Me? As you can see from my uniform, I'm a soldier from Bideford."
"I guess you're here to help the kingdom, right?"
"Of course! I'll kill all the invasive Barlia!" said the officer enthusiastically.
The old man's smile falters ever so slightly, but he quickly recovers. "You seem to have a deep grudge against Barlians."
"Who wouldn't? They suddenly came and invade our land." The officer looks the old man straight in the eye, "Do I have to welcome them with open arms?"
The cosy atmosphere quickly turns into a serious one. The tension in the tavern grew palpable and became a powder keg, ready to explode. "Maybe they have a reason."
The office chuckled, amused by the reply. "Maybe."
In a flash of movement, the officer splashes his untouched coffee on the old man's face. Contrary to his age, the old man nimbly evades the incoming coffee. "You have a good move for an elderly."
"What a mannerless young man." The old man, realizing his identity had long been exposed, swiftly reached for concealed weapons hidden beneath his clothes.
The old man lunged forward, his dagger aimed at the officer's face. The officer dodged the attack with a nimble step. The officer hurriedly unsheathed his dagger,
The two people circled each other cautiously. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed in the tavern. Then, the tension suddenly snapped like a tautly pulled wire.
The officer lunged forward, his dagger aimed at the old man's chest with lethal intent. The old guy dodged the blow with his quick reflexes. His body moved in a flurry as the sound of metal crashing reverberated throughout the empty tavern. (f)reeweb(n)ovel.com
The fight erupted in a flurry of swift strikes, parries, and dodges. Both of them showcase a profound mastery of combat. With each clash of blades, the ferocity of the attacks increases. One misstep is enough to end their life.
As the fight raged on, the old man find himself short of breath. Sweat streamed down his brows when he realise sooner or later, he'll be defeated in this dance of blades.
Thus, he made his way out of the tavern by jumping out of the window to the roof below before safely landing on the ground.
However, his joy didn't last long. He finds himself surrounded by a circle of armed soldiers with their rifles pointed directly at him.
Since he knows about the firearm, he naturally knows what it can do.
"Do you think I came here unprepared?" The officer casually walks out of the inn. He continued, "Be honoured, I have soldiers surrounding the entire district just to catch you."
The old man drops his dagger and slowly raises his hands, a gesture to show that he is surrendering.
"Good. At least you're smart." praised the officer. "Tie him up!"
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