Hutch sat on the floor, in the corner, surrounded by four walls. A small, slatted window, let him know how long he had been left there. It was dark, and the moon was full. The door, of two parts, lower of solid wood, the upper of slates, had been locked together, and a chain had been used to secure them in place. There was no escape. A stable designed for an eranth, was now his cell.
His mind swam though the events of the day. The conversations he heard, the meetings he'd witnessed, the orders that had been issued, the vile truths he had come to know about the enemy, and his allies, and the image of the corpses floating in the pond being the most difficult of the things to shake.
He had been stewing for several hours, given only a meager offering of water to wash down a ration of food, delivered to him by Barhalis, the one who had placed him there on Cascel's orders.
Hutch understood why he was in that situation. He had been warned that he had to keep his thoughts to himself, but this wasn't the same thing, not in his mind. This wasn't about rounding up faux-refugees or protecting the country, this was a matter of invasion and genocide, starting with an act of treason. An act that would affect the entire country of Qur'loam, and it would be done without the King's permission. For even he knew, in his limited understanding, that it would take more than five days for the request to act to reach the king, and his approval of the order to make it back, even using their fastest rider. Even knowing the relationship that Cascel had with the king, he couldn't imagine that he would go unpunished for forging orders in his name, regardless of the circumstance.
More than anything, all Hutch wanted to do was protect the man he considered his friend, and once again, couldn't manage to keep his thoughts to himself, and when General Levim accused him of being a sympathizer, he lost all regard for rank and lashed out, begging Cascel not to forge the documents for the Generals, and to wait for the King's reply, to 'Never be afraid to do the right thing.' Maybe it was the heat that had gotten to him, made him lose his mind in the moment, but when Levim taunted him, and then pushed him out of the way, he struck back. It was his ultimate mistake, and in return, Cascel had him locked up.
"Have you come back to your senses?"
Hutch hadn't even heard Cascel approach, too lost in his own thoughts to be paying attention to the sounds around him.
"I could ask the same thing of you," he replied, setting down the blade of grass he had been picking apart. "It's treason, Cas. As if the genocide of an entire tribe isn't bad enough. Enemy or not, there are kids, women, and elderly to think of, but they are all just waved away like they don't matter. But at the end of the day, you are the one who is going to pay the largest, because you are the one issuing the orders in the first place."
Cascel turned his back and leaned against the door.
"Once again, you've put me in a terrible position Hutch. When I first met you, a little over nine years ago, I found your nature refreshing. While everyone else was terrified, once you found your voice, I couldn't get you to shut up. You spoke to me as if we were equals, regardless of our obvious differences, and I remembered you. When I saw your name on the conscription ledger, nearly a year later, I couldn't help but have you at my side again. You reminded me of my past and a place I used to know so many years ago now. Over time, I had hoped that we would come to trust each other, and through our first war, I thought we had. Through the years that followed, I was certain, that on some level, we had become more than just friends, but brothers. And yet now, I know I was wrong. All this time, I thought you knew who I was, and I had convinced myself that you were just playing dumb, but now I realize that was I wrong about that as well. That leaves with me two options. I let you go without the truth, knowing that you will run straight to Qor'ropi to tell the King of what's happening here, to reveal our plan and accuse of us treason, where you will meet your end. Or I explain, what I thought you already knew, and all of this comes to an end much sooner."
Hutch stood up and made his way to the door, leaning against the slats.
"Cas, if there is something you aren't telling me that can make all of this make some sense, I need you to tell me what it is."
He heard Cascel take a deep breath, a faint sniffle, and the door shifted when he stopped leaning back against it. Turning to look through the slats, Hutch could clearly see the sadness in Cascel's eyes, his damp eyelashes, gleaming in the light of the moon that filtered in through the window.
"It is a King's duty to protect his people, his country, and its resources. A good King will always understand that the benefits to a few will always be outweighed by the benefits of the many. They will make the hard choices to ensure the best outcome for the largest number of people they can, even if it makes them appear as a monster to those who can't understand. When I came to this country more than fifty years ago, you wouldn't have been able to recognize it. The King, Hassaedees, was a madman wearing a crown. As greedy, perverted, and vile as any other king you can find to this day, ruling over the eighteen other countries, we share this continent with. The rumors and the stories you've heard, the ones of disappearing tribes, abolishment of traditions, banning of religious temples and ceremonies, usurper to the throne, the one responsible for the massacre of the Qor'ropi nobility, and all the priests of Vuxsyphel, all of it is true." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a ring and set it in the light on the door frame between the slats. It was a strange black ring, as if carved from a single piece of stone, with a thick, heavy band, and a flat protruding surface on which was carved the king's seal. "And I am responsible."
Hutch felt his heart sink into his stomach. "That can't be real," he uttered, with little volume, as a strange wave of anguish began to choke him. "No, you can't be him. You can't be that monster."
"I'm sorry, Hutch."
"No! Cas, you're lying. Stop lying!"
"My real name is Casimir Salvador."
"No, it can't be. You are Cascel. My friend."
"No, Hutch. I swear to you, I am Salvador, the king of Qur'loam. And the faceless King, as you call him, is a set of three highly trained decoys. I wish, I could feel a sense of pride in this moment, knowing that my rouse has worked so well that even you, so close to me, so capable of seeing the flaws in how it works, hasn't figured it out, but instead I feel devastated by it. That I must be the one to shatter the illusion you have of me, breaks my heart."
"You don't have one," Hutch replied, shaking with rage and sorrow as he stared at the man, he thought he knew, through the door of his cage. "You are a lie."
"I see now, that you were never going to understand the things I have tried to teach you. The larger picture is something you are incapable of grasping. Cascel isn't the lie, Hutch. He is the truth. Through him I can see this world freely, without the constraint of fools and yippy politicians who sit in the stone fortress of Qor'ropi, only there to reap the rewards of their positions without ever leaving to see the country or meet the people they claim to rule over. Instead, I do what they will not. I see this country. I meet its people. I sleep on the ground with my soldiers and fight alongside them to win our wars and to protect everything that I have worked so tirelessly for. And after everything I have done for you, and you still look at me and call me a monster."
"The things you've done," Hutch stressed as the man he now knew to be the king, Casimir Salvador, set a folded piece of paper between the slats, before taking back his ring.
"Have been for the greater good. That is for you."
"What it this?" Hutch asked, cautiously taking the paper, and unfolding it to reveal a handwritten document on a piece of the King's embossed stationary, complete with his signature and wax seal at the bottom of the page.
"Jules Hutchinson of the Moahaba, I, Casimir Salvador, King of Qur'loam, hereby discharge you, dishonorably, from service in the First Division of the King's Guard, dismissing you from all duties. Henceforth, you are stripped of all titles and honors earned or received while serving, and all privileges afforded by them.
"Tomorrow at dawn, you will face your former comrades as the charges of insubordination, interference, and assault against a senior officer during a time of war, are read out loud, before you are executed, by beheading. Your remains will be buried in an unmarked grave. Your armor and eranth will be confiscated, and your tribe will receive half of the pay owed for this quarter, along with that letter, detailing your crimes and subsequent punishment."
"You can't be serious?" Hutch gasped, staring down at the paper, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. "Cas, I was on your side. I was trying to protect you."
"I'm sorry, Hutch. But I cannot trust you, and keeping my secret so that I can maintain my freedom and rule this country as I always have, is more important than your life. I hope that if there is an afterlife," Casmir said, his voice quaking, tears rising into the corners of his eyes, "that when I meet you there, you will find a way to forgive me."