Ephraim’s Story: Chapter 6: Turning Traitor

Chapter 5: Fort Rigwald     Chapter 7: Phantom Ship

 

    Chapter 6: Turning Traitor

    We rode south the next two days, passing through the hills of the Grado Highlands. On the third day we approached the port town of Bethroen, which, if we could charter a ship, would take the army directly to the main highway out of Tai’zel on the southern coast to Grado Keep. On the second day, the earthquakes started. Grado was usually rocked by earthquakes every once in a while.

    Vanessa, scouting the third morning, brought us the layout of the terrain and confirmed that it was the same as our maps.

    “Bethroen Port is a pair of small islands connected by bridges to the mainland,” she reported. “The main road we’re on runs straight there. On the western island are the town and the docks. On the eastern island is a fortress, I think to protect against pirates.”

    “And probably us, too,” I commented a little drily.

    “To the north of the town is another village only a mile away.”

    “That probably won’t figure into our plans,” Syrene said contemplatively. “Did you see any enemy units?”

    “No, ma’am! There either are no opposing forces, or they’re still in the fortress.”

    “Better suppose they’re in the fortress,” I said. “It’s highly unlikely they’ve not figured out where we’re going; Rigwald pointed our direction clearly enough. We’ll move in quickly, but cautiously.”

    “Right away, sir,” Syrene said, saluting, and went off to make preparations to move out.

    I rubbed a hand over my face and clapped my hands together, stretching as I got up. “Good work, Vanessa.”

    “Thank you, milord!”

    We were only a few hours away from the villages and it was getting close to lunchtime when we arrived on a little cliff overlooking the sea about a mile away from them.

    And fighting.

    “What on earth is that?” I asked, pointing at distant figures swarming between the fortress and the southern village.

    Syrene squinted. “I’m afraid I can’t tell, Lord Ephraim…”

    “Pirates or the Grado Army, something’s entirely not right. Let’s get down there! Ride!” I ran along the path at the top of the cliff, lance in hand, to the place where the road pierced the cliff down to the islands. I heard Syrene stifle calling my name; she was probably going to ask me to wait and explain what I had in mind.

    “Just trust me! I know what I’m doing!” I called back to her.

    Enemies, soldiers of the Grado Army, met us at the bottom of the hill. We charged through them without trouble.

    “Milord! Two pirates to the west, wyvern riders to the southeast!” Syrene called from the air above me.

    “Swoop down on the pirates to the west!” I shouted back. “We’ll worry about the wyvern riders once we get closer!”

    “Understood!” she called, sending Vanessa off to deal with the pirates. Her younger sister had just grown confident enough to begin wielding a sword in battle. That would give her a serious edge over the pirates.

    “They’re chasing someone down,” I murmured to myself as I came closer to the main action. “A ‘deserter’, perhaps?”

    A little closer, and I saw who it was.

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    “Duessel!” I bellowed.

    My old teacher, with his mane of grey hair and his heavy crimson armour, on his huge old warhorse, looked up at me, startled. “Prince Ephraim?”

    “Duessel, what’s going on?” I called to him, running across the bridge, cavaliers and axe-men with me. I pole-vaulted over a small barricade with my lance and came down with a heavy thud, stabbing an enemy swordsman and knocked the wind out of another with the haft. He came riding up to me, hacking down a third swordsman with his huge silver axe. “Why is the Grado Army attacking you?” I asked him. “…Wait, hold that thought. We’ll get you to safety first, and then we’ll talk.”

    Duessel seemed lost in thought, only attacking if someone attacked him first, or if someone attacked me from behind, or if someone attacked one of the very few knights who were following him bravely. “Duessel!” I barked at him.

    “…I was General Duessel, the Obsidian of the Imperial Three…” Deussel answered slowly. “This title, this service to his majesty, have been my life’s blood. Now I am branded a traitor to the crown. As of this moment, all that… gone. There’s no reason to continue this madness…”

    “Duessel…” I said sympathetically, but then my voice grew strong. I needed him; Grado still needed him! This kind of talk was uncharacteristic of my teacher, and I would snap him out of it, no matter how harsh it would sound. “Enough of this rubbish! You are my mentor, and I will not let you die! You will live. Yes, called a traitor… in disgrace… a fate, to you, worse than death. But the emperor is mad – what good will it do your country if you die? What of the people? The future!?”

    Duessel absorbed my words, his eyes fixed on my face. “…I understand,” he said at last. “This old fool’s life is yours, Prince Ephraim.”

    I breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at him. “That’s better. A bit. What are we facing?”

    “Sele- General Selena, the Fluorspar of the Imperial Three, has been sent to kill me for my treason against Grado. My knights are still with me, but I believe we are facing General Selena and General Valter, though I think Valter left. I saw his wyvern flying away north. A ship also left just before he did, probably to bring news to the capital.”

    “I see,” I murmured. “Well, let’s drive them back, convince Selena to stop fighting, and start putting an end to this war – together!”

    “Understood!” Duessel grunted. “Your orders?”

    “Send your knights to defend that village from pirates. Vanessa! You and those three swordsmen – back them up. Duessel, Syrene, come with me. We’re heading to the fortress with everyone else.”

    What was left of the Grado Army around the fortress was already weakening. The fortress itself was heavily guarded by swordsmen and archers. The wyvern riders had been dealt with already. I called Syrene down to fight on the ground and led the charge with Duessel thundering along behind my left shoulder. The man on horseback in charge of the gate spat in the dirt as we approached.

    “Prince Ephraim of Renais… General Obsidian the traitor… Two incredible trophies.”

    “I’m notta trophy,” I told him, gritting my teeth and spinning my lance. “That sounds like something Valter would say.”

    “Beran,” Duessel growled. “He does serve Valter.”

    “That would confirm that Valter was here earlier.”

    “General Moonstone was indeed here,” Beran sniffed. “But he left after General Fluorspar was called back to the capital. I am the one to cut you down to size. Enough talk, now! Fight me!”

    “Gladly,” I replied, lunging forward. Deussel was right behind me, and Syrene was right behind him.

    The fight against Beran was difficult, though I managed to kill his horse first off. I didn’t like killing horses; they were intelligent beasts, and mostly, not vicious like wyverns. But it helped me against him a lot.

    He managed to parry most of my attacks, but Duessel simply swept in and gave a sweep of his axe that left Beran’s sword arm slashed wide open. His face pale, the enemy general stumbled back and vanished around a corner. I followed, but he had gone. Not even a trail of blood to tell me where my enemy had gone.

    The rest of the Gradonians, seeing Duessel and Syrene, surrendered without much of a fight.

    “So where’s Selena gone?” I asked once we gathered in the main hall of the fortress.

    Duessel, instead of answered, chose to give me a bear hug. After a moment of surprise, I returned it.

    “Prince Ephraim, it’s been far too long. You’ve grown to be quite the impressive commander,” he said gruffly.

    “Thank you,” I replied. “My being alive I owe to your instruction in the lance, Duessel. Tell me, why are you being pursued by your own troops?” Duessel looked away and did not answer. I put a hand on his shoulder – he was still about eight inches taller than I, darnit – and pressed. “Speak to me, Duessel. I want to put an end to this war. I must know.”

    Duessel put his thoughts in order, different expressions flitting across his craggy face. “As you know, the emperor is – was – a man of compassion. Always seeking to do the right thing for his people and country and to keep peace sovereign. But one day all of that changed.” His voice fell away again.

    “But why? Why did he change?” I urged.

    Duessel shook his head. “I wish I knew for sure. But I have a theory. It seems that trouble first started when Prince Lyon and the Royal Mages created a gemstone they referred to as the Dark Stone.” I wrinkled my nose. What an unoriginal and ominous name. No wonder everything went wrong. I looked down and saw that Myrrh had come in and was standing close by my side. I patted her shoulder. “I’m just a soldier. I don’t know anything about these magic things. But they said the Dark Stone might have more power than the Sacred Stones. Those Stones that had the power to seal away the Demon King.”

    “If the Dark Stone is stronger than they are…” I murmured, unease growing in my mind. “Do you think it is the cause of Emperor Vigarde’s madness?”

    Myrrh tugged on my sleeve. “Ephraim… the evil power… it hungers and consumes. It can tarnish the purest of souls with its breath.”

    “So… yes, then,” I said a little drily, looking down at her again. “The timing, does it fit?”

    “The Dark Stone was created about five months ago,” Duessel said, counting weeks on his fingers. “Yes, that’s it. We mobilized for nearly three months and-“ he winced, “-invaded Renais a little less than two months ago. Six weeks.”

    “Seven,” I replied. “I spent six weeks in the field with Kyle and Forde… …and Orson, before he betrayed us. Then Eirika came to get us less than a week ago. I think.”

    “Five months is correct,” Myrrh whispered.

    “Then- Duessel, where is the Dark Stone now?” I asked.

    “In the capital, with Prince Lyon,” Duessel answered. “He’s never put it down since the day it was created.”

    “I see… I’m going to the capital. Perhaps if I talk to Lyon he’ll listen to me… and we can help Vigarde.”

    “I’m going with you,” Duessel said.

    I gave him a worried look. “But we’ll be fighting your own men.”

    “Thank you for your concern, Prince Ephraim, but I’ve already been branded a traitor. The only way I can serve Grado now, is, ironically, by serving you.”

    “Thank you, Duessel. I’m glad to have you with me.” I gave him a smile.

    He bowed and went to speak to his knights, the ones who had defected with him and who were now standing in the background of the room. “Men, I owe you an apology. You’ve followed me faithfully and I’ve betrayed you to Frelia.”

    One of them, the oldest, saluted crisply. “You speak nonsense, General! We are your men to the end. We’ve trained under you, fought beside you… lost mutual friends… shared good times in the mess – we are your loyal soldiers to the end. If you join Frelia, so shall we.”

    “My brave men,” Duessel said gently, proudly. I thought I heard a slight sniffle from him as he turned his head away from them. Syrene came to speak to me about the wounded in the battle, but I could still hear Duessel. “Bah, I’m getting sentimental in my old age…” I couldn’t help but smile at that.

    “Please, sir, give us permission to join the Frelian army.”

    “Permission granted. We’ll ride together, just as we always have, Prince Ephraim willing.”

    I held up a hand to pause Syrene and turned towards Duessel. “Permission granted here, as well. You have my respect and my gratitude. Thank you.” The knights bowed, and Deussel led them out of the hall.

    Bethroen Village was strangely quiet the next day. The usual bustle about the docks, small as they were, was non-existent.

    “What’s wrong here?” I asked after a near-fruitless hour of searching for the captain of a ship large enough to carry the army. “Of the six men we’ve found, only two were willing to give us passage. They seem… afraid. Anyway, tell the men to take a rest. It’ll be a while before the ship’s ready.”

    “Yes, sir,” Syrene answered.

    “I can answer your question, master,” a small girl with pale green hair said, looking at me with innocent brown eyes. “They are afraid.”

    I looked down at her in confusion. “Pirates? Storms?”

    She shook her poofy green head. “No… there’s supposed to be a ghost ship sailing around out there…” she shivered. “So it’s probably best that you don’t go, either. A ship from Rausten set out from here a week ago in search of it, but it hasn’t returned yet. No one wants to go anywhere while there’s a ghost ship on the seas.”

    I knelt down and looked her in the eye with my head cocked to one side. “Thank you for the warning, but we’re warriors. We’re not afraid of the ghost ship. If it attacks us, we’ll defeat it. And if we find the Rausten ship, we’ll help them.”

    She looked at me sadly.

    “Prince Ephraim, the ship has arrived,” Syrene said from behind me. “I will go and alert the men.”

    “Thanks… Syrene,” I said, standing up and giving the solemn little girl a last look before heading off to the dock, Reginleif firmly in one hand.

 

Chapter 5: Fort Rigwald     Chapter 7: Landing at Taizel

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