Chapter 65

Aris stumbled home, a bloodied ball of rags held at his side.

Corrine rushed out to greet him. Her face was a mask of worry, “what happened?!” she shouted as she fussed over him, not even bothering to come inside as she examined his bloody thigh, arm and neck.

Aris looked into the eyes of his wife.

She was terrified. She saw just how close the blade of the kukri had come to piercing his carotid artery and knew that it meant she wouldn’t be standing by his side right now.

Rather, she would been kneeling, weeping over his fallen corpse.

He saw her look at his blood covered hands. Then look down to the make-shift bag at his side.

“I’m fine, really,” he said. His footing unsteady. His guards were now surrounding him. “I’m okay,” Kestral appeared. “It’s okay,” he lost his footing and fell to the ground.

Kestrel came up to his side and shored him up alongside his wife Corrine and they dragged him to the estate’s small infirmary.

“What have you got here?” Kestrel looked at the bloodied ball of rags that Aris had yet to release.

“Something to convince those nobles who are still sitting on the fence about joining in on our rebellion against that bastard Emperor of ours,” Aris said.

The medic arrived. The bloodied wrap fell out of Aris’ hands. A snatch of hair peeked out from a small part that the wraps hadn’t fully covered.

*****

Aris limped. His wife Corrine had begged him not to go. Begged him to rest. She told him she didn’t want to lose another husband to the rebellion.

Her words had nearly torn his heart into pieces.

She didn’t deserve this. She deserved more than what he could give her. She never deserved to not only love and marry one, but two revolutionaries who were dedicated enough to their country that they were willing to sacrifice their lives to save ignorant fools who would never know the sacrifices being made for them.

Aris used the head of last Inquisitor to rile up his forces.

“This is what they do to those who would fight for the people!” he had shouted. “They send assassins! They send monsters that they train in magic meant solely to destroy the psyche of us!”

His words had riled up his small, but ever-growing band of loyals.

Every day more guards were joining their cause, loyal to Aris above all else, knowing that his vision was what had kept their capital safe more-so than anything else.

“They take them! They take your children, your friends, your family! They take them and make them into monsters!” he growled with heavy conviction. “This could be your son!” he pointed to the head. “They take them and turn them into Inquisitors. Men and women who’s sole purpose is to be bred into being the consummate torturers. They take them as children and torture them. They torture them daily until it warps their minds. Until it warps their whole being, turning them into a disgusting monster. They take your children and destroy them until all that is left of them is a desire to share their vicious pain with others, all in the name of the man who oversaw their kidnapping. In the name of the man whom they see as a savior, but who’s ambition destroyed our former capital of Brinhold and its twin city Portin!”

By the time his speech had finished he knew that he would never be able to go back. He had publicly outed himself as a rebel.

He was a threat to the Empire and it wasn’t security any longer.

Nothing would ever be the same.

So be it.

They had tried to kill him. They had nearly killed Sephira. They had nearly killed and then kidnapped Kestrel’s young companion Cillia. They had killed friends of his. They had destroyed their city in a mad rush for power. He was outing himself as a rebel, but Aris felt less stifled than he ever had in his life.

He was free.

More free than ever before. he was free to fight the monster who had caused all this pain, and now he would take the fight to Evrain. He would take the nobles from the Emperor. He would take everything from the man, just like Evrain had taken everything from his beloved nation Vealand.

He would play on the political ambitions of the nobles.

He was going to offer them what they lusted for more than anything.

Untold power.

*****

Aris limped into the room of the Trout River Tavern, one of the only ones that had escaped the consuming maw of what the inhabitants of Fiell now deemed the Riverside Fire that had destroyed so much of the city.

Aris liked the irony of having the meeting here where everything had started. He would bring about the end of Emperor Evrain from the same place that the rebellion had been handed to him on a silver platter.

Here is where the end would begin.

He scanned the room. He could tell the nobles were uncomfortable being seated in the smoky, low-rent tavern. This was the kind of place they would rather die than to be seen in.

Good.

Let them be humbled.

It would be good for them. It would help them become the leaders that Vealand would need after he killed their emperor.

Humble.

They were a sad lot. Focused on power mongering and little more. Most of them could care less what happened to the people under their rule. they only cared about personal and political advancement. Among the nobles gathered at the tavern, those who truly loved and cared for Vealand, Aris could count on one hand.

It was those few that he was really preaching to. It was them that he would elevate if…No…Not if…When his coup succeeded. They would be the ones to lead Fiell to a brighter future.

He let them know as much as he slowly walked to the front of the abandoned tavern. His voice, though quiet, held their attention. The gathered men sat up straighter when he passed by. His mere presence commanded their respect, and he wouldn’t let them not give it.

He demanded it from them.

“My fellow nobles and friends. You know why I’ve gathered you here today. You know what I intend to do. I’m sure your spies have sussed out the information already, and if they haven’t, you need new spies.” Aris paused, allowing the small spatter of chuckles. “You know that Emperor Evrain allowed my death to be ordered and executed at the hands of the Inquisitors, who are led by that snake of a man Edrian Wolls, whom, I’m certain all of us hate,” that was punctuated with emphatic nods. Hatred for the Minister of Defense ran deep. The man was not only ruthless, but intolerably snobbish.

He acted as if he were on another level above the common man. He would insult you, your family, and your upbringing all while smiling as he slid the knife across their necks.

Edrian Wolls was a man with few friends and many enemies.

“Edrian, with the blessing, no, blessing isn’t the right word; under the direction of, is better…Under the direction of Emperor Evrain sent five Inquisitors to kill me!” Looks of disbelief greeted Aris’ statement. All knew of the Inquisitors, but most of the lesser nobility believed them to be overblown stories. Those with the money and connections however, knew just how impossible it was to escape five Inquisitors.

Whispers filled the room. “He’s lying.”

“He’s mad for power.”

“FIVE Inquisitors? That’s impossible.”

“Aris has finally cracked.”

“He’s gone insane,” those and many more whispers of disbelief echoed in the tavern.

Aris went to the corner, where no-one noticed the bloody rags laying. He let the whispers and speculations about his mental health continue.

Let them talk. It would make shocking the fools all the sweeter.

He methodically unwrapped the bloodied linens.

Still no-one noticed him. They were too caught up in their gossip.

Soon the linens lay in a pile on the floor and package they had carried was in Aris’ hands as he stepped back in front of the small crowd. Eyes turned back to him as he stood in silence, his package raised in front of them.

Looks of horror painted the faces of those who realized what he was carrying.

“What’s that?”

“What’s he done? Is he a madman?”

“Is that a HEAD?”

Soon silence pervaded the room. All looked on him with horror. Aris allowed himself a grim smile.

That had shut them up.

“Yes, this is exactly what it looks like,” Aris said as he hoisted the head of the Inquisitor higher, grasping it by the curly blond locks that topped a scarred and disfigured face that could have once been handsome. “This is the leader of the Inquisitors that was sent to kill me. He was sent to kill me by Edrian Wolls under the orders of Emperor Evrain.”

Nobody said a world. They all focused on the head.

“Emperor Evrain takes them as children. He takes them and tortures them. Those few of you who’ve worked with them know the mental torture that they inflict on others. What you don’t know is that these tortures are ones the are baptized into, trained into from childhood,” Aris gestured to the head with his free right hand. “He takes them. Has them kidnapped. He takes them from their beds at night and has them tortured every day for years. They’re tortured and beaten and brutalized for years under the hands of Emperor Evrain. Then that bastard takes ‘rescues’ them from the hell they’ve been brought up in. A hell that he put them in in the first place! Then they swear their loyalty to the man who’d imprisoned them and tortured them in the first place. He manipulates their memories so they think he’s their savior. He manipulates their memories just like he’s manipulated yours. He pulls your strings and you dance like puppets! You’re little more than chattel to the man. He’s making you dance like fools and you don’t even realize it,” Aris’ voice had grown to an impassioned growl.

He looked around the room. Half of the men were nodding their heads. Their pride wounded by Aris’ words that none of them could explain why, but knew to be true, and the other half infuriated by the words that flowed from Aris.

He had proved them wrong for so long, proved that he was nothing like that traitor brother of his, Van. Oh well, it was only to be expected that even great titans would fall. Van was family. Of course his madness would infect his younger brother. Just how long had Aris been insane?

“We can no longer let ourselves be ruled by a monster who would take the weakest among us, take the most , and submit them to a life of torture. Force them into a life spent in pain, their only purpose to share that pain with others,” Aris said. “We can no longer let ourselves be ruled by the demon who lit our streets on fire and destroyed so much of this city that we love.”

Those words caught their attention. Voices erupted. How could Evrain be behind the fires?

The voices continued long into the night. It was nearing three in the morning when they finally came to a decision.

They would fight.

The motivations were different for every man, but they all knew that this would be an opportunity for them to expand their fortunes greatly. They could fight under the guise of protecting the city, but all the while gain land and title advancements.

Aris watched, he saw their selfishness.

He didn’t care.

Evrain needed to pay for his crimes and if he didn’t bring the nobles in, win them over, curry their favors, the mad Emperor would never pay for his sins.