The Emperor's Revenge Page 2

  “Definitely,” Asgall said.

  “Pardon, sir?” he replied.

  “You’re still our best.”

  Colum couldn’t hide his smile. He sheathed his hatchet, yanked the chain away, and pulled open one of the doors. Asgall gripped the other handle and tugged. Sunlight poured into the entrance of the stairwell, but everything beyond it was completely dark. Scanning his surroundings, Asgall spotted a lantern hanging along the wall of the stairway and grabbed it on his way down.

  “Allow me to go first, sir,” Colum boldly said.

  Knowing it was a soldier’s duty to clear the way, Asgall nodded. “Very well.”

  Colum took the lantern from him, turning a knob on the side. Within seconds, the lamp came to life, and Asgall followed Colum down the shadowy staircase.

  “Here’s another one.” Colum reached out and gripped the lantern, pulling it from the nail on the wall.

  Colum handed it to him, and Asgall lit the wick with a quick twist of his wrist. He stepped toward the far side of the room.

  The moist, heavy air immediately clung to Asgall’s face, and his nostrils tickled from invading mold spores. Under a heavy blanket of dust and grime, he spotted a workbench with several tools scattered on it. Situated at the end of the table was a large bowl.

  Even with the dim lighting, something seemed to glisten within it. Certain his eyes were deceiving him, Asgall blinked, staring in disbelief at the rainbow of gleaming color before him. He cupped his hand and scooped up some of the contents. Asgall still couldn’t believe it. They were every color imaginable.

  “Dragon scales,” he mumbled.

  “What?” Colum replied.

  Unable to pull his focus from the objects in his hands, Asgall nodded. “They’re dragon scales.”

  “But...aren’t those forbidden?” Colum asked after a long pause.

  Still in shock, Asgall didn’t answer. It took a nudge from Colum to tear Asgall away from his dream-like state. He turned to look. “What is it?”

  Colum shined his lantern on the back wall, and Asgall’s jaw dropped at the sight of the armor. Laced in dragon scales, several pieces dangled from hooks along the wall.

  “The Emperor was right,” Asgall finally said.

  “About what?”

  “Micheil has been up to something. Just not what he thinks.”

  Asgall twitched at the sound of loose gravel crunching above them. He spun around and moved toward the stairs. Looking up into the daylight, Asgall saw a figure dart by.

  Micheil.

  Asgall ran up the steps, Colum’s heavy boots banging against the stairs as he followed close behind. When he reached the top, Asgall saw Tormod gripping Micheil by his forearms.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Asgall was accustomed to housing criminals in the cell barracks, but the Emperor insisted on seeing Micheil in person, and in the palace no less. Asgall bound Micheil’s hands with cuffs, a thick chain linking the two together. Asgall took the seat beside him, ensuring his prisoner behaved while his men stood guard on the other side of the door.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do,” the Emperor said. Situated across from Asgall and Micheil, he leaned back in the chair.

  Asgall turned his head ever so slightly, glancing at the accused. With his long and scraggly locks, Micheil resembled a nomad more than he did a wealthy citizen of the town.

  “The Emperor is speaking to you,” Asgall said. “If you want any chance of avoiding death, you will talk. Otherwise, I can have Colum and Tormod escort you to the guillotine this minute. If we want to waive your right to a trial, I’m sure the Minister of Justice will support our decision based on the evidence we found.”

  Those words roused Micheil, forcing him to look up.

  “There’s still hope for you,” the Emperor said, “if you choose to cooperate.”

  Silence ensued, and Asgall stared at his uncle.

  “I turned greedy, Your Highness,” Micheil finally said.

  The fact that he was showing respect to the Emperor was a favorable sign. Asgall could sense Micheil’s desire to open up. Fear had a way of doing that to a man.

  “Your current wealth wasn’t sufficient?” the Emperor said. “You required more? Or was treason your true motivation?”

  Micheil shook his head, his eyes bulging slightly. “No, Your Highness. I would never think of committing such an act.”

  “You have to admit that arming a rebellion or a small army outside of our walls would be both lucrative and self-serving for you.”

  “Lucrative, yes, but not self-serving.”

  “So, you’ve never taken issue with me?”

  “I admit to disagreeing with you on certain matters, Your Highness, but never to the point of defying you.”

  The Emperor exhaled, pushing his back and shoulders against the chair. “Even if I were to believe you, it doesn’t diminish the fact that you broke a strict law. You know as well as anyone that dragon scales are forbidden.”

  Micheil lowered his head. “I do, Your Highness. For that I take full responsibility.”

  “And you offered gold to those cheats in exchange for my silk?”

  He nodded. “Weaving together dragon scales can only be accomplished with the finest silk, so I made a deal with them. I didn’t realize they would embarrass you, Your Highness, or the entire town for that matter.” Micheil raised his head. “I beg for forgiveness, Your Highness. I will sit in a cell for a lifetime if that’s what you wish, but please spare my life.”

  Asgall shifted in his chair. He considered himself a firm but fair commander, much like his uncle, but these were extraordinary circumstances. Asgall licked his lips and swallowed, a bit of anxiety rising up inside of him.

  “And what about the weavers?” the Emperor asked. “Any idea of their whereabouts?”

  “They’ve met their fate, Your Highness.”

  “They’re dead?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “And how do you know this?”

  “I witnessed it with my own eyes. They were cocooned in the forest the last time I saw them. Giant spiders, Your Highness.” Micheil took a breath. “They got greedy, too. When your supplies ran out, they tried to fool me with spider silk.”

  The Emperor pursed his lips, then broke out in laughter. His uncle’s hysterics were so loud, Asgall thought the chandelier overhead might start to shake.

  “That, alone, makes it all worthwhile,” the Emperor said. Several chuckles escaped his mouth before he managed to continue. “You will face the consequences of your actions, but I give you my word that you will not go to the guillotine for this.”

  Micheil bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  The Emperor nodded to Asgall, and the commander stood. He pulled Micheil to his feet and escorted him out, handing off the prisoner to Colum and Tormod. When he returned, his uncle was grinning at him.

  Asgall returned the gesture. “You look pleased.”

  “Those weasels got their proper punishment, and Micheil Gilios is headed to the barracks for a lifetime. Pleased is an understatement, nephew.”

  “IS HE GONE?” HIGBALD whispered.

  Keeping his back tight to the tree, Cerdic extended his fingers, able to feel his brother’s hand. He leaned to the side and peeked around the massive trunk, thankful for the huge trees. It was large enough to conceal both him and his brother.

  “I don’t see anyone,” Cerdic replied.

  He heard Higbald exhale. “I thought for sure the solider spotted us.”

  Cerdic pushed himself off the ground, brushing the damp soil and crusty leaves from his pants.

  “Should we go back?” Higbald asked. “For the gold?”

  Cerdic looked down at his brother. “We still have the Emperor’s money. Plus, we nearly met our demise with those spiders. I’d rather not have to escape death a second time.”

  The Emperor

  Colum (left) and Asgall (right)

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  Kevin Hopson, The Emperor's Revenge