The False Soldier

Sir Lucan stood at the bridge with the king, watching as the army departed. Thousands of soldiers, all wearing identical armor, leaving the city at once. 

"Ridiculous," the king was saying, flustered. His face was red from too many glasses of wine on an empty stomach, and he clenched his fists with agitation. "That girl defied the law. She defied the kingdom. She defied me!"

"Yes, she did, but-" Sir Lucan started.

"But she escaped! We haven't had a prisoner escape my dungeons since my reign began. And now, there's been two in one night! Ridiculous!"

His eyes darted to the right. "And it's all because of you! Balian! The guards told me what you did. What were you thinking? This is all your fault."

Sir Lucan watched as Balian dismounted his horse and kneeled before his king. "I know, Your Grace. And I promise…I will make this right."

"No, you will not," King Leandis said, turning to Sir Lucan. "He will."

"Me?" Sir Lucan asked with surprise. He glanced at Balian and then back to the king. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"The walls weren't breached at any point," Balian said as he hopped back into his saddle. "So they should both be inside the city…somewhere. Best of luck to you, Sir Lucan."

And to you, Balian, Sir Lucan thought, though he stayed quiet.

"Leave us, General. Go defend my city," King Leandis said, his voice short and stern.

Balian nodded and kicked his heels into his horse, following the horde of men across the bridge. 

Sir Lucan watched his friend go until he disappeared into the crowd.

Twenty thousand strong, he thought. Hopefully it would be enough to hold off House Styte. 

King Leandis watched the army go for a moment, then glanced at Sir Lucan. "Take me back. I'm hungry."

The two left the bridge behind, making their way back inside the city's towering walls. "Once I get my food, you may begin your search," the king continued. "I don't care much about that murderer. He's a threat to my people, yes. A madman, the guards say. Still, the girl is more of a priority to me. She's insolent and…won't leave my mind. Until she is dead, I cannot rest. You must understand."

"I do, Your Grace," Sir Lucan assured him. "I understand."

He took the king back to the castle, leaving him in his dining quarters, surrounded by a group of trusted soldiers. 

Sir Lucan's first destination was the dungeon. Maybe if he could find something of use there that would help him find the prisoner.

Two guards stood at the entrance, as always. The other two who were killed during the night watch had been buried outside the city a few hours earlier. 

Like all soldiers, their deaths had been meaningless, and their names would soon be forgotten.

Sir Lucan walked the corridors, avoiding hands that jutted from the cell doors and ignoring the voices that called out to him. 

He reached the end of the corridor, finding the cell whose door had been ripped from its hinges. Only someone like Balian could tear metal.

Besides the door, there didn't seem to be much left to show what transpired. 

Sir Lucan looked down the hallway, opposite where he had entered. It was dark. No torches had been lit this far down. He supposed the guards didn't go through the trouble since none of these cells had occupants. 

He followed the hallway down for a minute, until he reached another set of stairs, which he followed up to the top. Shoving his way through a door, Sir Lucan found himself on a wooden stage. 

The execution platform, he realized. 

Two guards stood outside the door, a look of surprise across their faces.

"Sir Lucan," one of them said. "What are you doing here?"

"Tracking a prisoner. How long have you two been here?"

"Just an hour before sunrise. If you're wondering if we saw anyone come through here, we didn't," said the other guard defensively.

"The others who were on guard here, did they not see anything?"

The first guard shook his head. "They were probably busy drinking at the tavern," he said, gesturing to the building a hundred feet from them. 

"Why would they be doing that?" Sir Lucan growled with frustration. "If they had been here, we wouldn't have lost that prisoner."

He started toward the tavern, then turned around. "The next shift they show for, send both of them to me or the king. They'll be punished for this."

The guards stayed quiet but nodded in agreement. 

Sir Lucan entered the tavern and immediately asked for mead. "You have my thanks. Say, did two guards come in here late last night?"

The innkeeper looked at him with tired eyes. "As a matter of fact, they did. Woke me right up. I served them for an hour or so, then they left."

She set his mead down and Sir Lucan took a sizable gulp. 

"Did you see where they went?"

She shrugged. "None of my business. I went back to sleep right after."

There was a cry from another room, and the innkeeper groaned. "Is there anything else I can do, Sir?"

Sir Lucan shook his head and the innkeeper disappeared through a door to tend to the baby. 

He finished off his mead in two large gulps and left the tavern. 

Now which way to go? He wondered.

He took a right and made his way down a long cobbled road. The sun was high in the sky now, and Sir Lucan had to squint so he wasn't blinded. 

Eventually, a large shadow was looming over him. 

The wall.

It was one of the biggest structures man had ever built. Over forty meters tall, the wall encompassed the entire city. The people's ultimate protector from enemies.

Over the hundreds of years since the wall's construction, not a single enemy had stepped foot inside the city. It was simply too tall to effectively scale. 

There was a scream and Sir Lucan rushed forward. A crowd had formed around the armory near the wall's stairs.

In Sir Lucan's experience, crowds were always loud.

Not this one. There were a few gasps, and he could hear a girl crying softly. Other than that, the fifty or so people were completely silent.

He pushed through them, trying to get a view of what was happening. Eventually, people noticed him, stepping aside so he had a clear path through. 

The door to the armory was open, and a figure was lying in the doorway.

Sir Lucan grimaced, stepping closer. The soldier had lost both of his legs from the knee down. He didn't wear armor, except for a pair of gauntlets. There were scratches in the ground, and the soldier's arms were outstretched. He had been dragging himself. 

There was a pool of blood just inside the armory where the severed legs lay side by side.

This soldier had been murdered.

*******

Caelus walked with determination.

He was a quarter mile behind. 

Catch up. Catch up. Catch uppppp, he thought as he pushed himself to go faster. 

The axe he carried was heavy. Its wooden handle was rough on his bare hand. He had thought of grabbing the soldier's gauntlets, but it was pointless. Besides, he wanted Balian to see how good he could fight with only one hand. 

A drop of blood fell from the blade, landing on his cheek. It rolled down his face like a tear and he licked at it greedily. 

The blood! He realized suddenly.

The soldiers would wonder whose it was.

I can't very well tell them I cut their friend's legs off and stole his armor. They might not want to be my friends then. No, I won't let them find out.

He stopped, dropping to his knees. Using the grass, he wiped away the majority of the blood.

There, much better. Now I need to catch up.

"You don't want to miss out on the action, after all," he said aloud.

Stumbling back to his feet, he took off after the army ahead of him.