Chapter 10: Let the Chase Begin

Brock wandered Fort Kingsley, admiring what could be argued to be the prime example of the Vasilosse Kingdom’s engineering and technological prowess. No mine in the world could harvest coal as quickly as the one underneath Fort Kingsley.

While continuing to sightsee the fort’s only attraction, he came across a soldier standing guard in front of a closed door in a hallway. Flaunting the two golden stars on his uniform, he approached the soldier, who immediately noticed him.

“Good day, soldier,” said the vice admiral.

“H-hello, sir.”

“You seem on edge. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then, would you kindly move out of the way? I would like to examine the inside of the room you are blocking.”

“Of course, sir.”

Doing as he was told, the soldier stepped aside, letting Brock go through with his investigation. When Brock opened the door, he found no one inside the room.

There were two beds, both of which had the covers thrown open, a bathroom with the lamp still on, and a pillow and a blanket on the ground next to a wall. Evidently, the room had only recently been cleared.

Brock came back out and got uneasily close to the soldier’s face, forcing him to back away against the wall. “Why were you guarding the room, soldier?”

The soldier gulped. “I’m sorry, sir, that information is confidential.”

“Ah, so it is. Well, the room is empty, now. Join me for a walk.” When the soldier refused to move, Brock reiterated sternly. “It’s an order.”

Paralyzed with indecision and stress, the soldier forced himself to follow his superior as he led them away from the hallway. Eventually, they found themselves walking along one of the suspended walkways over the center of the fort, directly above the mine.

Brock stopped walking and turned around, eyeing down the frightened soldier with his nightmarish face. “I am your superior, you agree?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You refused to answer me back there. That can mean one of two things. Either you’re utterly incompetent and don’t understand how the line of command works, or you’ve been given orders by someone who outranks me to keep quiet. Did I get that right?”

The soldier kept quiet, his lips quavering as he failed to decide what to do.

Brock got closer to the soldier. “I asked you a question, soldier. Answer when spoken to.”

“Y-yes, sir, that makes sense,” blurted out the soldier.

“Very good, now we’re getting somewhere. Now, judging from the state of the room you were guarding, I would wager it housed people not very long ago. In fact, I would guess it was emptied mere moments ago. Why else would you still be standing guard like a dolt in front of an empty room? Were you not given any new order and so like a good obedient dog, you waited for your master to come back?”

The soldier continued to hope for Brock to leave him alone, too scared to give the wrong answers.

“I understand, you stay quiet because your general ordered you to. However, you should know that I am under direct orders from the king to apprehend criminals who might be hiding within these very walls. Surely, even a well-trained dog such as yourself can comprehend that the king’s wishes thwart those of your commanding officer. So, let’s try again. Why were you guarding an empty room? Who was in it?”

Again, overcome with stress, the soldier failed to articulate a thought. He gulped loudly and backed away as much as he could on the railing, until his upper body rested above the mine many storeys below.

Brock spun his tongue in his mouth and rolled his eyes in frustration. “Let’s try one last time.” Suddenly, he knocked the spear out of the soldier’s hand and grabbed him by the collar, pushing him over the railing. His body hung over a deadly fall, only the tip of his feet struggling to find a foothold on the walkway. “Now, maybe with that little extra incentive, you’ll be more willing to cooperate.”

“G-General Freyne told me to keep quiet!” cried out the soldier, as he fought to keep a minimum of balance.

“Very good, very good. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Now, tell me more. By order of King Bartholomew Soffle, I order you to tell me who was in the room, and where they went.”

“T-the general took them to the mine! There’s a passage there leading east of the mountains. I-I don’t know what they’re going to do once they reach the other side, though, I-I swear!”

“You forgot to answer who.”

“I-I don’t know their names, but it was a group of five young people!”

“Five? There should be six. No matter, this is definitely what I’ve been looking for. Oh, and how quickly the tides have turned in my favour.”

“C-can I please go?” asked the soldier, tears welling up under his eyes.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.”

Brock unhanded the soldier, letting him flail pointlessly at the railing as he fell over backward, plummeting to his doom. His scream echoed all over the fort, until it abruptly stopped with a loud thud down below. The whole time he fell, Brock looked at him almost erotically, longing to see his fear closer.

He controlled his excited breathing and headed to the ground floor to alert the troops that had come with him. Together, they marched toward the entrance of the mine decidedly, needing to catch up to Ophelia.

He and his men took the elevator down to the mine, pushing aside anyone who happened to be in their way. The cage lowered them slowly down the gaping hole dug directly downward into the earth. For over a minute, the only sounds were the chains bringing the elevator down clinging against themselves, and distant, faint noises of mining operations taking place.

When the cage hit the ground and its gate opened, Brock and his men ventured into the surprisingly well-lit mine. All over the walls and ceilings, ropes were nailed to the rock, a lamp hanging between each nails.

The cage had lowered them into a central room, branching off in multiple directions all around. Secondary, much larger elevators with sturdier walls served as transportation for the coal and other minerals being extracted. Minecarts brought the materials from the multiple corridors to the central room, where workers loaded the elevators. On the surface, they would get sorted and sent to the capital and other towns on the island of Corin.

Albeit a very busy mine, the central room was currently devoid of any personnel. Brock wondered why but quickly realised. With the same sick smile he always wore, he followed the chatter coming from deeper into the mine. Eventually, he reached a conglomeration of miners. Their voices were shaking, all at a loss for words.

“What appears to be the problem, here?” asked Brock as he pushed his way through the miners.

When he emerged in the center of the cluster, he was met with a bloody scene with a familiar face. Sprawled on the ground ungracefully was the soldier he had pushed off the walkway many storeys above. His body had been flattened by the impact, his blood splattered meters to the side, chunks of his brain outside of his skull, his eyes popped out of their sockets.

Next to him was another dead man, this one a miner. His body was in almost as sorry a state. It was likely he had been hit by his comrade falling from above.

A third man was kneeling next to them. This one, Brock also recognized. He was a dark-skinned man with a strong build. His thick locks of hair were as dark as the coal he mined, and his eyes, blue like the sky. He wore heavy iron-toed boots, thick pants held by a cluttered toolbelt, and a dirty no-sleeve shirt.

“Eugene, my dear friend,” said Brock to the man.

Upon hearing the vice admiral’s voice, the man’s eyes grew wide, and the veins on his head grew so big they threatened to pop. He got up and faced Brock.

“It’s been a long time,” continued Brock. “How have you been?”

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, scumbag,” responded Eugene.

Eugene was a Commander in the Royal Army, working under General Freyne in the mines of Fort Kingsley. Every day, he went underground to work, and the miners working alongside him, he considered his family. Now, one of them lay dead on the ground.

Brock snickered. “And what have I done to warrant such a hostile greeting after so long?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know it was you who did this.”

Brock looked over at the dead bodies. “May I know why I’m your suspect?”

“That soldier came falling from the fort. Ain’t no way he just tripped and fell. You pushed him.”

“And I presume you think I could have been the only one to do it?”

“You’re a psycho bastard. The second I saw your face, I knew it was you. You’re not even putting in the effort to deny it.”

Brock exhaled an annoyed puff. “Who even cares? Pawns fall down all the time. It’s not hard to replace them.”

Overcome by anger, Eugene walked over to his contemporary and grabbed him by the coat, shaking him wildly. “You’d better turn around and head back to the sea where you’re supposed to be while you still have one good arm on you.”

The soldiers accompanying Brock all raised their weapons simultaneously at Eugene. In response, the miners strengthened their grip on their tools, readying themselves for a confrontation for which they were not prepared.

Brock took a second to laugh in the face of his old friend. “So quickly you resort to recklessness, Eugene. You’re the same as you’ve ever been.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“I assume you know why I came all the way down here, yes?”

“I couldn’t give any less of a shit.”

“I’ve been sent by His Majesty the king. You wouldn’t stand in the way of his wishes, surely? Even you’re not that stupid.”

“We can talk about that later. Right now, I don’t see why I should let you do as you please in my mine after you killed one of my own.”

“Why make such a big deal about a dead man? He’s already dead.”

Eugene shook Brock. “And you will soon be too if you don’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Enough with the threats, Eugene. I know your general came by recently, with a group of young fugitives. I’ll remind you they’re wanted for crimes in Coalot and in the capital. It would be in your best interest not to protect them.”

“You’re in no position to be ordering me around.”

“I disagree. I would say I’m in prime position to do so. As I’m acting under direct orders from the king, I temporarily outrank you, and so you must do as I say. Now, step aside and let me and my men go through. We have criminals to apprehend.”

Eugene still did not let go. His eyes glared intensely at Brock’s scarred face.

“This is your last chance,” said Brock in a less taunting, more serious manner. “I’m warning you.”

“Go away.”

Brock sighed. “Kill him.”

Part of his soldiers readied their spears and circled Eugene, while others kept the miners at bay. In a defensive reflex, Eugene let go of Brock and lowered his body, trying to anticipate the direction of the first attack.

Before it could come, however, Ophelia’s voice brought everybody to a stop. “Enough!” she screamed from across the mine.

She emerged from the darkness, her eyes redder than usual, almost as if they glowed, like those of a predator lurking in the shadows. She walked right through the circle of soldiers threatening her commander and stopped in front of Brock, locking her eyes with his.

“Ah, general,” said Brock. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You won’t find them here.”

“So it would seem. If you would kindly direct me toward where you so foolishly decided to hide them, I might be inclined to forgive your insubordination, however severe it might be.”

“You take too much pleasure in playing the big man.”

“Your perception of me matters very little at the moment. Now, please, -”

“I already told you, you won’t find them.”

“Why must you insist on standing in my way? I know you led them through here. You can’t deceive me with your lies.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Oh? So, you admit it, then?”

“And you can’t do anything about it.”

“Is that so? I’m eager to find out whether the king thinks the same.”

“The king?” scoffed Ophelia. “What can he do? You killed your only witness.”

Brock confusedly looked around at his soldiers. “Are you blind, general?”

“They are your men. They will say whatever you tell them to say, truth or lies.”

“You are taking a massive risk, general.”

“You can leave, now.”

“I believe I will stay. I am, after all, -”

“Under direct orders from the king, I know. You’ve made that clear already.”

“I would prepare myself, if I were you.” Brock executed a short bow as a salutation. “General. Commander.”

Soon after the heated confrontation, Brock and his men vacated the mine, releasing the tension that had been building up.

Eugene sat on nearby crate and looked sadly at the dead bodies bleeding out on the ground. “General.”

“What is it?”

“Are you certain about this?”

“I wasn’t, at first. Not until I saw what they have in their possession. It changed everything. They must not be caught, for the sake of everyone in the kingdom. No… in the world.”

“I suppose you won’t tell me what it is that’s so important?”

“I’m sorry, Eugene. The fewer people know, the better. It’s nothing personal.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you for stalling for me.”

“I heard the distress in your voice. I don’t know what’s going on, but I believe you.”

“Thank you.”

***

Sweating and out of breath, Hunter, Luck and the others finally stopped for a quick breather outside of the mine, hiding in a tree’s shade. They had been running for a while, pushed by Ophelia’s sudden concern for their safety. Although it was appreciated, they could not help but be confused.

They emerged on the other side of the mountains, with a clear view of the hills forming the eastern side of the island of Corin. The hills, covered in long blades of grass, stretched all the way to the sea, where Ophelia had instructed them to go. “Go in a straight line until you reach an inlet on the shore. There should be an island with a single tree in front of you, about fifty meters into the water. Wait there until a ship comes to get you.” That’s what she had told them.

Luck was the first to fully regain his breath. “So, any idea as to why she suddenly wanted to protect us so fervently?”

“I think I know,” responded Hunter between respirations. He took out his mother’s necklace.

“The necklace of the gods,” said Jim.

“Is that why she was so worked up?” asked Taina.

“I think so,” said Hunter. “She warned me not to let the king get his hands on it. I don’t know why, though. She kept most of it secret, but she knows things.”

Elesia was the last one to steady her breathing. “Are you gonna keep it? I mean, if it’s so dangerous, shouldn’t you get rid of it?”

Her brother was stumped by her proposal. “Sis, have you been listening? We can’t let anyone steal it. Abandoning it is the same as handing it to the king on a silver platter.”

Hunter clenched his fist. “I’ll be damned if I let the Royal Army take away one more thing from my mother. That necklace is not theirs.”

Luck amicably slapped his back. “You said it! Now, let’s stop dawdling and let’s get a move on! We won’t outrun our pursuers by standing around.”

With a vague destination in mind, the group got back on their feet and headed eastward, farther away from Silvers.

***

~Winrol Citadel, Kingdom of Vasilosse~

“I see. Your request for aid will be granted.” King Bartholomew hung up the phone on the desk in his room. He laid backward in his lavish chair, both satisfied and preoccupied at the turn the situation was taking. He looked over at the door to his room. “You may come in.”

His second son, Prince William, appeared from the other side of the door.

“What is it? It is unlike you to visit your father in his private chamber,” said the king.

“Pardon the intrusion, father,” said his son as he came a bit closer. “I did not mean to disrupt your call.”

“You did not. It has already ended.”

“You seem bemused. Is something the matter?”

“The Reas boys, the Kareese siblings and the other fugitives still elude us. Vice Admiral Floke tells me General Freyne helped them escape.”

“She did what?”

The king raised his hand to silence his child. “I have never known Brock to be a liar, but I cannot yet justify the arrest of General Freyne.”

“It would not be out of character for her, from the stories I’ve heard.”

“Maybe not, but she remains one of my strongest, most capable officers. Losing her would leave a gaping hole in my ranks, no matter who were to replace her.”

“So, then what?”

“As per requested by Vice Admiral Floke, I will send him backup to go after the fugitives. They are likely on their way to the east, to where exactly we do not know. To cover as much ground as possible, he will go by land, while Admiral Zube, who is already in those waters, will search from the sea.”

“Admiral Zube, you say. Your strongest officer, the ogre. Are you sure he won’t kill them?”

“He knows not to kill the Reas boys. The rest matters little.”

“Even the Kareese siblings?”

“Those two are a failed experiment. They are nothing like their older siblings. They are weak and frail, destined to be broken.”

“I see. Admiral Zube will no doubt be able to capture them. He never fails. Once he does, you will be closer to Travis Reas and the treasure of the stars than you ever were.”

“That is the plan. Now, then, son, this was not the meaning of your visit. What do you wish to discuss?”

William swallowed a knot forming in his throat and approached his vigilant father. “Indeed, father, there is something important I would like to speak to you about.”

“Then, speak.”

“It’s about Wren, father.”

“What about your older brother?”

“If I may be so impudent, father, it is no secret to anyone that your health is deteriorating as you age. Eventually, whether by your passing, or by your wishes, the throne will have to be passed on.”

“Be careful how you proceed. I have not died yet.”

William shook his head. “That is not what I meant to imply.”

“Get to the point, William. The longer you beat around the bush, the more impatient I grow.”

“Right. The rule of inheritance stipulates that your oldest son, Wren, is going to be the heir to the throne. However, I must voice my concern as a member of the royal family, and as an inhabitant of the kingdom. Wren is not fit to be king, father.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He is weak, easily prone to sickness and injury, uninterested in politics, uncharismatic, dull, and lacks any qualities it takes to rule a kingdom. That’s why I must earnestly suggest that you rewrite the law of inheritance and make me your heir instead. I truly believe I am infinitely better than Wren at everything necessary to be king.”

When William finished speaking his mind, it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He stood, lighter than he was when he first entered the room, his breathing still shaking from the courage it took him to make such a bold request from his father.

Bartholomew had his eyes closed the entire time his son spoke, and only now opened them, revealing a disappointed look. “Interesting. I never thought, that of my three sons, you would be the foolish one, one day.”

“Father, I-”

“Stop it. You say you are better than your older brother at everything it takes to be king? You have just now proven how immature, arrogant, and needlessly confident in yourself you are. You are not ready to be king, and I will not rewrite a law that has been established for as long as kings have existed to cater to your appetence for power.”

“Please, listen,-”

“I have heard quite enough out of you. I still occupy the throne you so desperately desire, and I do not plan to waver in my duties anytime soon, not when I am inching closer to my goal. But if I ever find myself needing to pass on my role, it will be to Wren, as spoken by the stars long ago.”

William stood firmly with his opinion, albeit unable to defend it further. He was too ashamed to move of his own accord, instead wallowing in his failure to convince his father.

“To think you would come to me with such a preposterous proposition,” scoffed the king. “Even Windfrey, despite all his shortcomings, has never once demanded to be put before tradition. You say Wren is not fit to be king? If that were the case, the gods would not have made him my firstborn son. Leave at once.”

His embarrassment was piling up and weighing him down, but William promptly turned around and exited the room, making sure not to slam the door behind him and garner even more scorn from his father.

On his way back to his room where he would lament his failure, he came across Windfrey, who was out taking a walk around the royal tower.

“William, is everything alright?” asked his younger brother, genuinely concerned.

William ignored him and simply kept walking, refusing to even make eye contact.

“Huh. I wonder what got into him.”