Responsibility Ch. 33

Author's Note: There's going to be some gory stuff here. Not sexual at all, but wow it will be gross. I'll try not to describe it in too much detail but... yeah. I thought I should warn you.

***

Oh... freezing night...

How grave it was to the unfortunate maidens, with their long hair tied up and hidden under leather caps, with their warm silks replaced with coarse wool, with their lost warmth and discovered quiet turmoil.

The trio followed closely to Ammas as he led them close to what he claimed was a secret passageway, but when he realized that suspicious people were gathered there, he led the girls away to find a different route. When that failed too, he decided to try using the most obvious routes, as if they were leaving the castle normally, but still keeping to the shadows. Only once they were close to an obvious exit did they take a turn and look for another passageway.

All the while Ammas had to keep looking back to make sure Oksana was still there.

Sometimes she seemed to be more distant, even possibly walking away, and Ammas had to go collect her. She always gave the excuse of being too frightened to go anywhere.

No. Ammas found suspicious people at the next passageway too.

So, he went off to the shadowiest place he could find, and to the shadowiest window in that area. He checked for any guards that could notice them. Then he softly told the girls to climb through. He'd help them.

Yana and Gabriella went first. Ammas grabbed Oksana by her waist, which made her gasp and squeak. Then he carefully climbed out the window with the girl attached to him. "To keep you from being too frightened," he'd murmured to her.

Once everyone was safe on the ground outside, they moved through the shadows again. Ammas held onto Oksana's elbow as if he thought it would float away.

Over to the three walls. They went one by one, luckily finding passageways the suspicious people hadn't been occupying, or often using not so secret passageways in the stealthiest of ways. Finally, after a time, Ammas was convinced they were outside the great castle. He knew there would be footprints in the snow. They could be tracked that far. Still, now they were in the capital, where there were much more roads free of snow. Tracking would be more difficult.

Ammas stopped to buy some horses, but he took one less than expected.

Not because he wanted to keep that little princess on his horse with him.

He knew he needed to keep Oksana with him.

Once everyone was saddled up, and a fidgeting Oksana was right in front of Ammas, both of them on the same horse, it was time to move again.

They moved at a gentle pace. Going too quickly would have more people notice them. As far as Ammas knew, not a single dangerous person knew that they had left at all. It was best to keep that head start in mind.

Suddenly, as Oksana tried to whine about something, Ammas put an arm over the girl's torso and roughly whispered to her, "Do you think I don't know you want to flee to your new Madam?"

Oksana wasn't just stuck dumb. She was made still too. Ammas couldn't know her expression, but he imagined it wasn't a very calm one.

"I'd assumed you'd cut the Empress' locks long ago, Girl," Ammas said. "I believe she'd thought the same. It was best for her to wait and see what you'd do, and now I have all I need to know. You want to go on to the one that instructed you. You don't think you have to go into hiding. The truth is, you do. Your new Madam doesn't need you. Your purpose was met. You have nothing more to give her. If you go to her, you'll be abused until you die."

Suddenly, the blonde girl interrupted with a high-pitched, "No."

"No?" Ammas' nostrils widened. "No to what? The world? The world will not change for you. You aren't special. You are only a fool that betrayed her Madam, the woman that fostered and protected you. What lie did your new Madam give? Did she say she could force me into marrying you one day, or some other stupid thing you childishly pine for?"

Her little fingers rose and sunk into his arm, but he barely felt it.

"Why," she whimpered, "why won't... why won't you accept that idea? I come from a good family. That Empress is only a doomed foreigner with no future."

"The one with no future is you," Ammas told her with a sort of tone that implied there would be no more comments on the matter.

Odd thing, though. If there could have been anymore comments, there wouldn't be any time for them, because soon the small group was halted by a larger group of mounted men with an unmarked carriage. Ammas simply couldn't recognize it. The men didn't exactly seem to be threatening, but Ammas didn't want to be caught by anyone. He tried to urge the other girls to hurry away with him.

But then...?

***

Rahela couldn't bring herself to rise from her seat.

Gazing at her weary reflection in a small mirror on a table, a sheet of parchment with a bowl of ink and a ready quill pen before her, Rahela was lost in her own mind.

She didn't want to die.

Tears came again, warm and tickling her skin.

No, she didn't want to die.

But neither did she want to be captured and endure whatever torture was in store for her. Perhaps they'd even take some time to strangle her with braids of her own lost hair, which might've been kept for that purpose. Why not?

There was never meant to be a life for her child. Never. As much as she wished the world could be kind, could at least let her child go free, it didn't matter. Even living as a feces collector for a dirty city would be better than whatever would come next!

The child...

Rahela broke again, weeping even louder than the maids locked away in her bathing chamber. She couldn't see her reflection, couldn't see anything but liquid. Her head lowered and her hands pressed into the tears.

But what else could she do? Wait for the takeover? Wait to be humiliated and murdered?

She sniffed and blew her nose in a kerchief. She used a different one to wipe her face and eyes. Then she tried to write.

Point in ink. Wiping away excess on some spare cloth. Very well. Hovering over the parchment.

Her arm lowered, the quill held between her closing fingers. The ink was dragged across the parchment.

As an empress, she should be able to write a suicide note, at least. Something noble, something even her enemies would treasure. There it is! She admitted defeat! Let us keep this precious letter for the scholars of the future to wonder over!

Her arm moved again. Another long stroke of ink was made, cutting through the first. Then more lines, and more, until the quill was only scratching the paper without leaving any ink behind.

She let the quill clatter down, and she rested her head on both arms on the table.

Goodness, those maids certainly didn't want to hush. Would they ever give up?

Rahela hoped there were still jars of clean water in there.

Rahela didn't know how long she stayed there, listening to the chambermaids wail. When most of them finally tired out, she forced herself up and thought she didn't need a letter. Nobody did. A wordless death was much better. Yes!

A few confident steps... then they slowed... and then there was none. She halted.

This had been so much easier when she was a defeated little queen of Testoa!

After all this fighting, all this desperation, there was truly no other course?

She went down to her knees and cried into her hands.

She got back up and started pacing. Was there any way to fake her death?

Perhaps...

No.

No.

But...?

No!

Her candles were shorter than when this lonely adventure began, with maidenly screams and weeping serving as her only companionship. But she still couldn't imagine how much time had passed.

A knock on the door!

Rahela didn't turn to look.

She heard some cracking and creaking, then heavy pounding, as if someone was using a small battering ram to break through!

Had a guard been bribed or killed?! Were they coming already?!

A surge of both terror and antipathy furnished her muscles. She heard the crashing and snapping. The voices too. Loud, male voices. A good deal of her energy was needed just to open one of the doors leading to the balcony. No time to hang herself or slice some vital vein, not anymore!

She felt the quick but heavy weight of rather manly footsteps behind her, many of them! She knew they were calling out to her but she didn't know what they were saying. All she knew was she needed to get over the balcony's railing and have her head split onto the earth below.

"Rahela!!"

Her waist was seized. She was snatched practically from the air, or so it felt.

She landed right on her backside, on the hard floor, and it sent pain down her legs and up her back. Most of the pain stayed in the obvious points of contact, though.

Her back was against something solid and fairly warm except for something cold dusting it. Around her there were two long limbs mostly covered by cloth stockings and boots, with a bit of what might've been a shorter tunic too. Arms were about her torso, keeping her in place.

"Unacceptable, Little Bacon. Don't go on to your death so easily."

Her breath froze for a moment as her brain tried to sort everything out.

"Majesty, Ammas was right. She's locked her chambermaids in her bathing chamber." That sounded like Borys.

"Why would he have been wrong? He has no reason to lie."

"I certainly did not, Your Majesty." Ammas?

What?!

Rahela tried to look around, but she was tightly kept.

Where was Gabriella?! Where was her precious Gabi?!

Her husband's voice rained down on her again. "Don't lose hope, Sweet One. We've come with information."

Why was the Emperor here?! What was even the point?!

She began yelling and jerking her body around as much as she could.

"You thought being DISCREET could save us?! You thought you could surprise everyone by TRAVELING IN THE SNOW?! You're a TRUE IMBECILE!!"

A gloved hand slapped right onto her mouth, no mercy there. Her voice was muffled, and she breathed in cold and warmth all at once. Rahela did manage to evade the hand just enough to screech out, "We're doomed! DOOMED!! THERE ARE TOO MANY!!"

Another firm press on her mouth. "Close those pretty lips and listen. I'm here. I won't be a widower again, not now in the least. And someone needs to QUIET THOSE STUPID GIRLS!!" That bit of manly hollering made Rahela's entire body flinch and shudder.

Someone, likely Borys, seemed to go over to the doors to the bathing chambers, knock, and announce that if there was one more cry out of them there would be beatings. That seemed to be what Rahela heard, but she wasn't interested in it. She sunk her teeth into the leather and flesh.

"Ah!!"

That certainly got him to pull his hand away.

"I hate you!" She repeated that around seven times, each time faster, until she seemed to be furiously sneezing. Then she went on with, "Your doom is your own design. You could've married anyone else. You could've chosen someone your under your court's approval. You could've chosen a ruler of a grand and powerful state. You could've chosen anyone, but you plucked me from my home and placed my sister in danger!" She was kicking her legs like a child having a tantrum, although she didn't feel like a child.

"You're a monster! You're a fool! You're a thoughtless demon who only cares for his own fancy! Everyone is your puppet, but no longer! You'll be deposed! I hope they kill you! I hope they feed your corpse to vultures! I hope your existence is lost to history!"

He grabbed her jaw right then. It was so tight that it hurt. "No more of that. Did you not hear me before? We have information. We didn't come in the snow to be discreet. We weren't planning some secret thing that needed discretion. We came because we were sent a list."

"Hm?" Rahela's tiny utterance still carried a tint of anger, but it was certainly more modest that what she'd been spewing.

"Borys, the scroll."

Footsteps, rustling of cloth and leather, then parchment. The Emperor had to move his free arm away from Rahela to get the small tube of parchment. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he showed Rahela what was written there.

Names.

Name of nobles!

All in the handwriting of a certain Baroness.

Her husband finally let her mouth go free as she silently read.

Baroness Verala, that perfectly beautiful woman that had once tried to seduce His Majesty.

She'd written out this list of names, and they were all here at the castle! Right now!

Under the list, there were a few sentences.

"It's not my scheduled time to appear before the court, but I was expected to contribute. I had supplied the present nobles with additional troops. Here are their expected locations."

Under those sentences, there was a small, simple, but easily read diagram. It appeared to be a plain map of lines and circles.

"We know where those secret troops have been placed," the Emperor said. "Now we must design a way to extinguish them and their masters."

Rahela's belly lurched. Her chest jostled. Her throat trembled. Then she was laughing. Both her hands flung to her heart instead of her mouth. Her laughter was open and stinging.

When her husband tried to pet the top of her head, she reached up and slapped his hand away. She pushed and kicked herself a certain distance away from her husband, and she spun around to stare up at him. He had the beginnings of a beard and mustache, but otherwise he seemed the same to her. Crooked nose, scars, wicked eyes. The same object of her contempt. He hadn't any signs of concern on him. He was even smirking!

Sitting on her haunches, still full of rage and despair, Rahela said to the man, "You have no avenue. Even if you managed to repress the soldiers, the masters will flee as soon as they know you're fighting. You can't make a safe move, neither can you sit and wait. Death is your fate, as is ours."

One of the Emperor's eyebrows quirked as he asked, "Why have you spoken that way? Ours?"

Rahela put a hand on her belly, narrowed her eyes up at him, then looked away as if he was beneath her. She even offered a haughty sniff and a shrug. "Ah, how disastrous your life has become, Your Majesty! Your heir has come, but it will die before birth!"

As she furiously stared at the wall, she wondered if the Emperor would finally realize just how lost he was. There was no way out.

She felt the air rush a little before her. Then she felt her husband's heavy hand on her shoulder. Then something she hadn't expected.

A gentle, tender tone. A loving tone. A tone that made her think of holding hands and discussing how beautiful a flower was.

"This is simply another reason to continue the fight."

She pushed his hand away.

"Majesty." That was Borys' voice again. "That assassin couple is here."

"Do you plan to rely on their cleverness to save you?" Rahela shuffled herself closer to the wall and pushed her cheek against its cold surface. "They're useful, indeed, but I doubt even them."

She heard Robi, the assassin with a wild mind, go on and on about something. Most of his words were blended by pure excitement. Soon, his beloved Kolos, the calm blond, hushed him. Then the blond said, "Your Majesty, have any discoveries reached your hands? We can examine the matter much easier if we know of them."

The Emperor's clothing rustled and creaked as he left his wife and seemed to go over to Kolos. She heard parchment in the air too. "Yes, take this to your eyes. I'll hear whatever ideas you have."

"Ohhhh... oh! This is magnificent!" Robi was the speaking one then. "Could we get all the guilty nobles in one place? If we take the leaders, we can shatter their troops' morale!"

More parchment wiggling. "Gathering them without earning suspicion?" Kolos again. "Even if that could be done? What should we do to them? Conventional weapons would fuel a panic, which could sprout a few escapees."

"Hmmm... hmmmmmm!" Rahela imagined that other assassin turning his head to one side and then the other. "That tall Jester! He was the first to notice this whole thing. He could've held his tongue, but he didn't. Would he help us again? Yes! He would. He would!"

"What could he lure the nobles with?"

Suddenly, His Majesty interrupted the exchange with, "While the nobles are distracted and kept away to die, a temperate and quiet amount of my soldiers will spread where the troops are waiting."

"Yes, but Majesty," Robi said, "How can we deal with the nobles? What do we have that could kill them? I have quite the variety of poisons, but only enough to end one or two men quickly. The rest of my poisons are too slow."

It happened then.

As if a cozy little coal was warming Rahela's chest and belly.

As if a good amount of weight had slid away from her.

As if she could run and leap and dance.

Her toes tingled. Her hands trembled. She pushed herself off of the wall and up to her feet. She turned around to look right at Robi, and she asked him, "Will that jester help us?"

Nodding and smiling, Robi confirmed, "He's already done so, and he'll do so again, or I trust he will."

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, sniffing down some mucus, Rahela wiped one of her cheeks with her sleeve. "Go to him in secret. Or rather, send Kolos to him. He's much calmer. Have that jester know that I'm willing to give him anything I can as a reward. Then have him come here."

She hopped right then, because the Emperor startled her with laughter.

***

Come, come!

The Emperor has surrendered, although secretly so! He's learned of the enemy troops, but he's unable to do anything because he doesn't know their locations!

As evidence, he'll offer his most hated ally for a sacrifice, his wife.

Come, come!

If His Majesty went directly with that message, then it would be suspicious. Send a third party, and he would be more likely to be believed. Why would a ruler speak of such things, risking the notice of incorrect ears? Instead, send the jester that sung in riddles and code, but simple enough for a correct ear to hear what was wanted.

Leran the Jester had already won everyone's hearts with his pleasant entertainment, regardless. He was perfect for the task.

Whispering men and women, mostly men. They were all walking into, of all places, the Emperor's bathing chamber. Such a peculiar honor! Leran the Jester led the way with happy songs of future prosperity.

It was hot and steaming. Sweet smelling water with beautiful things mixed in.

Flower petals.

Herbs.

Leaves.

Chopped roots.

Other things...

Leran serenely played his flute to one side of the room.

Empress Rahela herself was in the full bath, facing away and sitting on a submerged ledge. She was nude, her short hair exposed for everyone to see. Her head was down. She was trembling with her palms on her face, weeping too.

The Emperor, Ammas, Kolos, Robi, and a handful of trusted adult servants, all were at the door that served as both the entrance and exit. Can't let any interlopers in to ruin the fun, and they certainly can't let the Empress out. The Emperor himself was the one to say, "Be gentle. Her body must be recognizable when it's presented to the court. The only bruises should be on her throat. Break a small thing if you like."

Such a fun bathing party!

The guests didn't even wash themselves beforehand. They were so eager that they disrobed, wrapped their hair up, and hurried into the bath.

Both men and women started splashing water at Rahela. When she tried to moved away, someone grabbed her wrist and spat at her face.

Laughter.

The Emperor himself approached to serve food. Spicy rolls, thick crab pancakes, cups of flavored water, and egg tarts. As the bathers ate, some of them pulled on what little hair Rahela had left. Some others jerked her away to slap her cheek.