Chapter 10:
The Capital
As the small group of men approached the capital, they directed their horses off to the side of the wooded path. There, they dismounted and pulled their horses slightly off the trail before tying them to low-hanging branches. Afterwards, they all descended into the forest and pulled back the hoods that covered their faces, showing their elven ears and high cheekbones.
"It's quiet. Let's do it." One of the men said, nodding. The others nodded in agreement before pulling out their small amulets, "We need to set out immediately after this. The magic in this is pretty weak, so we won't have much time." The others nodded again before releasing the magic, letting a very small glow envelop them as their pointed ears changed to rounded ears and their cheekbones softened. Their legs grew longer, and their eyes opened wider. Their hair also changed to a much more neutral tone. They did not even spend time to look at each other's new appearances, instead they removed their elven coverings under their cloaks and changed into basic brown pants and plain white shirts. To keep their appearance authentic, they rolled up their sleeves to their elbows. They then threw some dusty brown boots on their feet and hid their elven clothing in the hollow part of a tree. They then hurried back to their horses, pulling the reins off the branches, before quickly and calmly maneuvering their horses back onto the quiet road.
…
"Prince Clarence!" Valorie said, opening his bedroom door and entering. She froze for a moment in surprise as many servants ran around Clarence as he was on a small pedestal, wearing a gaudy, golden outfit meant for his birthday parade. Though the outfit looked fine to Valorie, the tailors were frantically measuring and trying to adjust his outfit. "It is your servant, Valorie, entering."
Clarence wanted to turn and look at her, but the tailors working on his birthday outfit were keeping him from moving his body at all, as they took notes on what to adjust.
"Hi Val-" Clarence quickly stopped himself when he realized his servants were looking at him. He cleared his throat and said, "Good. You may enter."
She smiled weakly before approaching him and curtseying him, staying at a distance as servants and tailors frantically ran around him, "Your Highness, I have news of your-" She paused, looking away uncomfortably, "savior's attendance of your birthday parade."
"Really?!" Clarence hollered, swinging his arms in excitement as the tailors sighed and begged him to remain still. Some of the servants shot Valorie a dirty look, and she glared back at them, "What did it say?! Did he accept?!"
Valorie shifted again uncomfortably, standing up and glancing down, refusing to look at Clarence's beaming face, "I-I'm so sorry, Your Majesty." Clarence's face quickly dropped, "We received news he could not attend. He has-" Valorie paused again, trying to think of a good excuse. She furrowed her eyebrows in frustration, angry that one of the queen's maid's just told her to make up an excuse if the prince asked if the elf was coming, "He has been very busy trying to save some people in the North Kingdom, and he will not make it in time. He sends his deepest apologies."
Clarence turned away from Valorie as his face fell even more. He looked down and whispered, "Of course, he's too busy. Everyone's always too busy."
Everyone stopped for a moment as they stared at Clarence, waiting for him to begin screaming or crying, but instead, he remained silent. Valorie's heart clenched as she stared at the defeated little boy, and in a split second added,
"But he promised as soon as he was done saving those people, he would come visit you!"
This made Clarence look up, and his face lightened immediately, "Really?!" He screamed happily, "Do you think he really meant it?! Will he come visit me?!"
Valorie nodded nervously, with a weak smile on her face as the other servants glared at her. They all knew this elf Prince Clarence constantly spoke of would never come. That elf would be killed before he even got near the border.
That is the fate of elves in the Yursear Kingdom.
"Please stand still, Your Majesty." One of the tailors begged, trying to measure Clarence's arm, "We have to finish this soon if you want to wear it for the parade today. We only have a few hours left."
"Of course!" Clarence said excited as he smiled wide, puffing his chest and stiffening his body, "I have to look presentable! I don't want to leave a bad impression for Silas!"
Valorie nodded before curtsying and leaving the prince's room, her mind racing frantically as she tried to find out how she was going to fix the mess she put herself in.
…
"What is your business in the capital?" A large man dressed in armor stood at the gate with an intimidating glare. He sneered as he spoke to the large group of men, looking at the pages of paperwork in their hands.
"We're looking for work, sir." One of the men said, holding back his anger with a forced smile, "And our work permit says we're allowed admittance into the capital." The man who spoke pointed at the ink stamp on the paper, then he lifted his head and looked back at the guard.
The guard, seeing their impatient stares, laughed maliciously before pushing the paperwork back into the man's chest without even glancing it over, "Actually, I decide if you're allowed admittance, and I don't like your attitude, so why don't you scurry off, rat?" He waved his hand at them.
The man who had spoken before smiled tightly before tightening his grip on the papers in his hand, ready to walk away with the small group of angry men, before another guard approached the group and stopped them from leaving. Though he was shorter than the previous man, his demeanor was far more intimidating.
"Wait, please." The new man said, lifting his hand towards the group to stop them. "Let me see that paperwork, civilian." The guard took a step forward, holding out his hand impatiently. The man holding the papers passed them to him with an understanding nod, and the new guard shot an annoyed look to the other guard before glancing down at the paperwork. He flipped it over after glancing over the front and shook his head.
"This appears to be perfectly fine." He looked up and straight at the other guard at the front gate who was now frowning deeply, "What was the reason for denial of admittance?"
"He refused to hand me his paperwork at first, sir." The guard said, shrinking his shoulders back into himself as he stood.
"Is that correct?" The new guard asked, glancing at the group of men.
"No sir." The youngest man said, "We offered our paperwork immediately."
"Well, it sounds like one of you is lying, doesn't it Blackwell?" The new guard said, staring down the gate guard.
"There must have been a misunderstanding." The gate guard grumbled, "My apologies." He then stepped aside and signaled to the gate operator with his hand, who nodded in response. The chains began to groan as the heavy, wood gate began to raise, slowly revealing the colorful, expansive market, full of vendors hollering their prices and well-dressed people filling the streets, laughing and drinking from bejeweled cups, "Have a safe and fruitful trip in the capital." He spat out, directing his gaze away from the group.
"And please let me know if you have any more difficulties in the capital, gentlemen." The new guard said, sending a secretive smile to the leader of the small group of men as the gate guard looked down in shame. The leader nodded back with the same smile as they entered the bustle of the capital. Streamers of gold and silver were hung above the market, giving the street an uncomfortable shine as tons of celebratory signs and banners were hung from every window and fence. People's heads were constantly emerging from open windows, singing along with musicians on the street and drinking, while nicely-dressed families and couples danced and walked along the busy streets.
The youngest man of the group openly gawked at the brilliance and color. He slowed down near a small band as they played a fast dancing rhythm, which caused one of the many young women who danced in front of the band to grab the young man's arm, trying to pull him in to dance. He shook his head, but she insisted with a pull and a laugh. It was only when one of the other men in his group grabbed his shoulder and shook his head at the girl with a sweet smile did she blush and let go. The older man then held the young man close as they hurried through the crowd, not releasing his arm in fear he'd get lost or grabbed again.
The group of men all sighed in relief as they dipped into a quiet alley.
"Good gods, that was horrid." The leader of the group said, rubbing his face with his hand, "Let's get this over with." He then stared at the youngest man with a critical look, "Are you ready?"
His smooth hands clutched his itchy, stiff shirt as he nodded.
"Alright. Don't be nervous. We'll get you close, all you have to do is finish it." The leader nonchalantly glanced out at the street with a placid expression, "Okay, it's starting soon. And-" He said, his eyes following something, "There goes our way in. Right on time."
The men all calmly poured out of the alley, following a small group of well-dressed men, all laughing and cajoling some nearby women. They followed the men from a distance until the finely-dressed men filed into a large, bright purple tent. The group slowed down as they saw this, and as they walked, the leader grabbed an unattended jug of wine from an outdoor restaurant and carried it with him, coolly dropping another liquid from a vial into the jug before dipping to the side. The men followed quickly, pretending to laugh drunkenly and stumble about. The leader broke off from the men as they hung near a bar, one of the oldest men flirting with some of the young women with flower crowns adorning their hair. The leader could hear the girls' happy peals of laughter as he created more distance between him and his group.
With a glance around his surroundings, he went over to the bright purple tent, holding back a sneer at the gaudiness, before forcing a smile and popping his head in,
"Excuse me, gentlemen!" He said with a jolly voice, as he entered the tent, "I was asked to bring this jug of wine to you!"
After the tent flap closed behind the man's body, it was only a few minutes before he popped his head out and nonchalantly dropped the empty jug of wine off at the restaurant he had acquired it from, which signaled the men to follow after him. After he had returned to the tent, the rest of the men said their goodbyes to the young women before following after him, laughing and singing all the way.
As soon as they stepped into the tent; however, their attitudes changed immediately to seriousness. The leader nodded at them before removing the clothes from one of the sleeping performers.
"C'mon, quickly," He said, removing his shirt, and replacing it with the performer's, "We don't have a lot of time."
The men nodded and followed suit, changing their shirts to the colorful, puffed-sleeved blouses and their pants to dark purple tights. They hid the sleeping men's limp bodies and put on decorative masks, covering most of their faces. The leader then grabbed the youngest man's shoulder before they left the tent, passing him a small knife,
"Take this." The young man nodded and slid it into his shirt. He turned to leave, but the leader grabbed him one more time, and turned the young man to look at him, "You've got one chance to do this. Good luck, Silas."
The young man's heart clenched as his nerves grew, but he nodded determinedly. After this, he would be able to return home, and he would never pick a sword up again.
He'd rather be killed than pick up a sword again.
The men exited the tent, laughing and cajoling at women, just like the original men in these outfits did, as they made their way to the middle of the market, an impressive, open area that usually held many vendors' booths. These were gone though, and the area was cleared to make way for a large stage. The stage was in the center of the open area, and the audience would surround them on either side, though kept at a small distance from the stage by rope and guards. The prince and his family would be right in front of the stage, where they would get the best view.
The platform was covered in gold and silver streamers and banners, which hid a switch that controlled the trap floor. In the back of the large stage was a large purple curtain that was surrounded on all sides, making it a small box where the performers could hide between their acts.
As the group began to approach the stage, their leader pulled them aside. "Okay, the parade should be starting any minute now. Remember, they will end with a performance by us." He nodded his head at Silas, "That's your chance, understand?"
"Yes." Silas meekly squeezed out.
"Once it's done, we set off the smoke bomb and the floor will drop out underneath us. That's how we escape." He glanced out, hearing the howling of the crowd grow to a deafening volume, "It's starting. Ready men?"
They all nodded and broke off, effortlessly jumping onto the stage. They then began to do little performances, such as flips and magical tricks, quickly pulling in an eager crowd that was waiting for the royal family to pass by.
"Welcome ladies and gentlemen!" The leader called from the middle of the large stage, bowing deeply, "I'm so glad you've all come here to watch our unique performance! We will be starting very soon, and I hope you enjoy this performance as much as we will!" He then pulled out a long ribbon from his sleeve and spun it around himself, disappearing as the ribbon fell to the ground.
The crowd loudly gasped and cheered at this, but their cheers grew even louder when Silas pulled the purple curtain aside at the back of the stage, revealing the leader, sitting on a brightly-colored box.
...
The cheers from the crowd quickly caught the attention of the young prince, who was getting loaded into a large, flat chariot filled with fresh flowers. In the middle, there was a set of large, ornate stairs that led to a golden, canopy-covered throne, where he would sit. His parents would not be far behind him in a slightly tamer, but still very ornate, chariot, with a platform where they would sit and wave to the crowd. Even with all the richness around him, Clarence became restless hearing the roaring of the crowd, trying to peek over his many attendants to see what was making the crowd cheer so loudly.
"Your Highness!" One of the attendants cried, "Please get into your seat. The parade needs to start now!"
Clarence, with more prodding, eventually climbed the stairs and sat on his throne, though he still tried to move his head to see what was happening. He tried to ask his attendants, but they quickly dismounted from the chariot and waved him off as the chariot began to move. He then tried to ask the guards stationed next to him, but they refused to speak. Clarence could not bring it to words, but he felt confined by the heavy gold clothing and uneasy, though he had no reason why. He tried to calm his racing heart, guessing it was because of all the noise. Clarence was so rarely let out of the castle, especially after the attack, so he assumed that all the noise and action of the people made him incredibly uneasy.
Yet at the same time, Clarence could not extinguish a spreading excitement in his heart. It made his hands shake slightly and flushed his cheeks with a light, pink color. He did not know what awaited him, but he yearned for it to be revealed quickly, so his heart might stop racing.
…
Silas's nerves began to build as he saw a large chariot slowly making its way to the stage. The other men were getting into formation to start the performance, but Silas just stood and watched the golden behemoth inch closer and closer to them. It was only through the prodding of one of the men that Silas finally turned his head and weakly got into formation.
"Relax." The leader whispered into Silas's ear as he leaned forward and stepped out of their formation. As he did this, the royal family's chariots pulled up to stage, and the crowd cheered loudly, "Good afternoon, Your Highnesses! It's truly a pleasure to have you watch our performance!" The leader said this with a deep bow, and in unison the group followed him.
...
The queen and king smiled and clapped, but Clarence was frozen as he stared at the dancing figure in front of him. His eyes were glued to the small, colorful figure that tried to force a smile as he moved around the stage.
"Silas." Clarence whispered, sitting up in his seat, "That's Silas. I thought he wasn't coming!" Clarence could recognize his savior right away. It did not matter that his appearance was strangely altered or that he was in a large mask that covered most of his face. Clarence knew his savior. He would always know his savior. The guards worriedly glanced over at Clarence, but his eyes never moved from his savior.
Clarence rose from his seat and descended the stairs, ignoring his guards that called to him and his parents sitting up in concern. He crossed the short distance to the stage and put both feet on the glittering platform, making everyone, including the group on stage, pause.
"Clarence?!" Queen Radcliffe said, raising from her seat, "What are you doing? Grab him!" She hissed, turning to the nearest guards, who in turn snapped out of their daze and raced down the stairs.
"Silas! You're here! I thought you couldn't come" Clarence cheered gleefully, holding out his hands and running over to Silas, who fumbled back in surprise. Silas clumsily stuck his hand in his jacket, but when Clarence closed the distance between them, he knocked them both over, causing Silas to accidentally drop what was in his grasp. As it spun away from them, it finally stopped in the corner of the stage, in full view of the audience.
"A dagger!" An audience member screamed, "He had a dagger! He's an assassin!"
This caused an uproar in the crowd as guards raced to protect Clarence and the king and queen. The elven leader swore under his breath and took a small ball out of his jacket, throwing it on the stage, which caused the stage to envelop in smoke. Another grabbed a dart out of his jacket, throwing it at the trap-door switch. It landed with a thunk and the small group dropped to the cobblestone ground.
"Silas! What are you doing?" Clarence yelled, clutching tightly to Silas's jacket, "You're my savior! You can't leave now! You have to stay!" The other elves quickly jumped to their feet and looked at the exit.
"Finish it!" One of the men hissed, unsheathing his sword. Silas's hands shook as he pushed Clarence off him and stood up.
"I'm not your savior!" Silas yelled, grabbing a sword from one of the men who passed him, "I'm no one's savior!"
Clarence shook as he watched Silas lift the sword over his head, preparing to drop it down on Clarence's small body. Silas squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of home, thinking of his family, thinking of… Emmeline.
"The Silas I know would never harm a child, even the child of our sworn enemy."
Silas's eyes ripped open and his eyes stung as he thought of his wife and her words. They tore at his heart. What she would think of him, standing over this small, shivering child, ready to plunge this sword into him and kill him? Silas faltered as he lowered the sword, then dropped it at his side.
"Silas?!" The leader called, stepping forward, pulling out his hidden dagger. He only stopped when a guard dropped into the pit. One of the other men quickly killed him before turning to the group.
"We have to go! More are coming!" He shouted, hustling towards the exit with the others. The leader looked once more at the small prince before sighing and grabbing Silas's arm.
"C'mon. We have to leave!" He said, gripping Silas's arm tightly and dragging him out as more guards dropped into the pit. But Silas did not even feel his body moving. He was too busy keeping his eyes transfixed on the small child, who was shivering as he peeked out of his arms covering his head, staring back at Silas with an intensity Silas had never seen before. They continued to stare at each other, looking for answers in each other's ragged faces.
But there were no answers.
There would never be any answers.
Not the answers they wanted.