“Make it so, Emere.”
Gwaharad stood.
“I shall also step forth into battle. Gather a hundred. It will take three days to reach Kingsworth, if we hurry. Let us pray that we get there before the Twenty-Fifth does.”
“Your Majesty has my eternal gratitude.” Loran bowed so low that her head touched the table.
Gwaharad raised his hand and said, “And Loran. Do not forget what we do for you today. This day, in which Kamori embraces Arland in its suffering.”
Kingsworth used to be Loran’s home. She had lived in a small house that doubled as her school, not far from the old king’s castle. The castle was now the prefect’s office, and the square before it where the market and festivals used to be held was now kept empty to convey the grandeur and authority of the Empire. There were many other squares within the city walls. Near the western gate was Fire-Dragon Square, where there used to be a beautiful statue of the dragon. After it was carted away to the Capital, the first prefect renamed the place Liberation Square. Only the pedestal where the statue had been remained.
Loran had climbed up the high southern wall and was looking at Liberation Square to the west. Today, there were four Scorpios chariots of the Twenty-Fifth Legion’s Third Armored Century in Liberation Square. Through the buildings between, she glimpsed a blue banner that had a beast that looked like a mix of a lion and a bird.
As Emere had predicted, the prefect’s guard had retreated. There was also not a single guard watching the city walls. Clearly, the prefect’s intention was to make himself blameless for whatever was about to happen that day. Then he would hold the Twenty-Fifth solely accountable for the atrocities, strengthening his position in the eyes of the Empire and the citizens of Kingsworth.
Even Loran, who knew nothing of politics, could understand that the Twenty-Fifth let their spite get in the way of their legate’s bid for the prefectship. She briefly wondered if the same was true for herself, before shaking her head and refocusing on the battle ahead.
Emere and his soldiers were hiding in wait near the gates, but there were likely no guards there either. As a lifelong resident of Kingsworth, Loran knew that the prefect’s guards normally were very lax about the city’s security anyway, barring the immediate environs of the prefect’s office.
Loran returned to inspecting the armored chariots. Each had six legs. The body was box-like, and there was an articulated tail arching forward, like a scorpion’s. At the end of each tail was aheavy automatic crossbow. There were also a pair of large arms with pincers. Three out of the four chariots had cannons on top. The one that did not instead had the upper body of a man coming out from the inside. Loran assumed this was the centurion in charge. He wore the same Powered armor the centurion Marius had been wearing in Dehan Forest. A dozen legionaries in ordinary armor were blocking the entrances to the square, their swords and spears drawn.
About a hundred citizens were corralled inside the square. She spied even some children among them, and bit her lower lip. Earlier in the day, Loran had found it odd that such clear skies were bringing thunder, but the real source of the noise was revealed to her as she looked on—cannon fire from one of the chariots. The nearby bell tower had no top, and rubble was scattered at the foot of it.
“None of you know the culprit? Truly none of you has helped the pretender princess of Arland in her despicable deed?”
The centurion had a device that could amplify his voice using Power. It was so loud that Loran could hear it clearly all the way up on the city wall. Loran had heard such a voice years ago when she had seen the 171st Legion’s parade with her daughter. Loran’s heart gave a squeeze, before she pushed away the memory.
She quickly scaled down the wall. Even a second too late, and an innocent would die. It was a long downhill path from the southern wall to Liberation Square. Half the city, including a part of the square at the very bottom of the path, was in her view. Ignoring the puzzled looks of the passersby, Loran ran down the path, as she had twenty years ago, when the King of Arland fell from the back of the dragon.
The cobbled street veered north, a large inn occluding her view into the square. She ran faster, knowing that just around the corner she would be able to see into the square again. Someone shouted from behind her, but she could not pay heed. As she made the turn, the amplified voice thundered again.
“None? Then we shall have to ask you one by one.”
As he said this, two legionaries dragged a young man from the crowd. He looked tall and strong but it would be impossible for an unarmed man to fight off two trained, armed men. He was thrown in front of the lead chariot. The thunderously loud voice began its interrogation, despite there being people in that square who did not understand Imperial. Just as Loran’s daughter had not.
“Do you know who this thief and murderer claiming to be the princess of the Imperial province of Arland is?”
“I don’t know!” The young man’s voice was full of fear, but just as loud as the centurion’s.
“Do you know who violated the Imperial outpost?”
“I don’t know!”
“Do you know who it is that murdered Marius, high centurion of the Twenty-Fifth Legion, in such a cowardly manner?”
“I don’t know!”
The half-visible centurion made a gesture with his chin. The two legionaries on either side of the man drew their swords and plunged them in his back. The young man did not even have the chance to scream. A gasp rose through the crowd, and then a murmur of discontent. Parents held their children tight and covered their eyes. When the centurion made his gesture again, one of the cannons of the chariots swiveled and took aim at the crowd.
“This is what comes of liars. Now bring me the next person. Ofcourse, if there is one who should want to speak up, they are free to come forth now instead.”
Loran was running. She was on the verge of tears. If only she had arrived a little faster, if only she had not attacked the outpost with no thought of what would happen afterward, if only she hadn’t gone around saying she was a princess of Arland… At the bottom of the hilly street, the square was no longer visible. The centurion’s voice, however, boomed in her ears.
“Do you know who this thief and murderer claiming to be the princess of the Imperial province of Arland is?”
“I do not.”
It was the trembling voice of an old woman.
