Content Warning: This story contains themes of political manipulation, coercion, and implied threats of violence.
The Hero and the Emperor's Mercy
Perry wasted no time in parting Head Taker's head, which he wondered how ironic it was — dying at the hand of your own name. And that was how the villagers who had been chasing him found him, holding Head Taker's head with his chest heaving. Everything about the Chief's wife was forgotten, and Perry was escorted to the village as a hero — and then news flew fast to the palace.
Back in the Palace
"Did they name you Flick because your eyes are always flicking?" the Emperor asked as he advanced on General Flick. "I gave you a simple task, but you failed. And you know how I detest failure — the consequences of failing me have a huge price to pay."
There was a commotion at the huge double doors which drew the Emperor's attention and saved General Flick's life.
"How dare you interrupt me!" he snarled at the guard.
The guard bowed low. "I do not, Great Emperor. There is a new development which needs your urgent attention."
"It should wait. I have a fee to collect from this failure here," he said, glaring at the General. "Let me lop off his head."
"Great Emperor," the guard bowed again, "I believe what is beyond the door will interest you and spare his life."
General Flick could be seen breathing hard. He thought his time had come, but when he heard the guard's words, he prayed to any gods that would listen for the intervention.
"Really?"
"Yes, Great Emperor."
The Emperor had a faraway look, while those in the room held their breath. They knew this was the moment he may strike and then complain about none of them stopping him later, after the deed had been done. General Flick's lips were moving silently, praying to every god he knew for salvation.
The Emperor gave a curt nod to the guard and lowered the sword. There was a collective release of breath, audible with a large sigh. General Flick couldn't stop his hands from trembling. He vowed to resign if he had the chance. He slumped on the floor holding his neck, not believing it was still attached to his head.
The Secret Signals
He lay there on the posh marble floor, just staring at the huge double doors and whoever was his savior. Perry knew about the Emperor and his meanness, and how easily he parts limbs from body. He saw a man on the floor wearing military armor, covered in sweat and drool with eyes bulging and flicking as if he was seeing stars.
He was led to the foot of the throne, sack over his shoulder. He hadn't rested since the run, and the exhaustion was getting at him — he needed his bed. The events that happened after the villagers had found him were still blurry in his mind, and he was still shocked to see that he was still alive after facing Head Taker. He thought Head Taker was the last thing he expected to see, but still walking and breathing was a miracle he would always cherish, and he believed the gods were truly with him.
As he walked to the throne, he couldn't help noticing the opulence and the golden throne glittering at the end of the walkway. Even the chandelier was made of gold — he could see the riches of the kingdom in everything he looked at. He was stopped a few feet from the throne by the guards, but the Emperor waved them away. "Come closer."
Perry thought he had a smooth voice that could deceive people — but not him. He was excited and a bit afraid at the same time — this was the man who had killed many and conquered the other kingdoms to form the Great Empire. But he dismissed that thought; he had faced Head Taker, and no one could have survived that brute, not even this Emperor.
He bowed to the Emperor, bulging sack still slumped over his shoulder.
"I was told you have something for me?"
"Yes, Great Emperor," Perry replied.
"Show me."
Perry lifted the sack from his shoulder and upturned Head Taker's head on the throne floor. There were gasps from the onlookers and muttering of abomination and prophecy coming true. General Flick could be seen shaking like he had a seizure.
"QUIET!" The Emperor commanded, and the muttering stopped. He beckoned Perry with his index finger to come closer. "You're more capable than my General."
Perry kept silent and could only bow, not saying a word — after all, it was a statement and not a question. One thing the Emperor didn't know about the other kingdoms he had conquered was the secret hand signals they used in communication, which were taking place right at that moment as the Emperor focused on Perry.
The Players at Court
Ragnor had always been crafty and a mean bastard at heart. He is the son of the former king of the Eastern Kingdom, and rumor has it that he killed his father to take over the throne — that is why there was no resistance when the army of Emperor Albert invaded the country, and it was dubbed the easiest victory. Ragnor has a pale complexion and eyes as dark as midnight. He has a scar on his right cheek he got while playing with a wooden sword at age ten with his cousin, Brin — whom he killed after he had taken the throne as payback for that scar. There is a permanent snarl on his face, as he had always been scowling, which has stuck. He hates dealing with those below his status.
Ben-Ali is the leader of the Western Kingdom. He is fat and lazy but has a very shrewd mind. He sat there on the aisle, round face sweating and shrunken eyes calculating every move, fat cheeks wobbling from every shake of his head.
Jubal is as thin as a slim blade with a white wispy beard at his chin. He had a long face like a vase with dark hair flowing down his shoulder, with thick eyebrows and blue eyes that pierce the soul. People always describe Jubal as a deadly beauty — he is as brutal as a gladiator in a desperate fight, and at that moment, he is furiously giving Ragnor the signal by spreading his left hand and using his right thumb to touch his middle finger.
"It is time to act now," he said.
Ragnor tapped the table twice with his index finger. "I know."
Ben-Ali glared at them and folded his right hand, clenching it in his left palm. "I will do the talking."
Jubal flicked his index finger with his thumb. "Don't be foolish — you're weak."
The Emperor's Judgment
Emperor Albert the First looked at the gift from Perry. The hall grew quiet as he stood up, his eyes momentarily flicking to General Flick, who cowered from the glare.
"So many people have died, and a whole city vanished, and yet no one could find out who was responsible. No one — not even my so-called General."
The Emperor paused, his eyes now roaming, looking at everyone in the room. He smiled a nasty smile when no one was able to meet his eyes.
"Now this young man did more than all the military put together. He made it possible for us to know our enemy, and he did it in style by bringing evidence. General Flick, what do you have to say?"
The Emperor asked, grinning — but it never reached his eyes.
The Fate of Failure
"I… failed," General Flick stammered.
"And what do we do to failure?"
At this, General Flick started shaking. No one could save him — he knew he was done for. He knelt, and with pleading eyes opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"General! I asked you a question," the Emperor said.
"We execute failure," the General said finally, as his breathing started coming hard.
The Emperor smiled. "Well, that is great news, because we have traitors in our midst."
The Accusation
He looked at Ragnor and shook his head.
"You're a fool. You thought I don't know what you have been talking about? With that stupid hand gesture?"
"Great Emperor, you must be mistaken," Ragnor said, bowing low.
"Am I now? Maybe if I start trimming limbs, I will get to the answer faster, right?" the Emperor asked him.
Ragnor swallowed hard. He tried to mop his brow, but his hands were shaking so violently that he couldn't lift them.
"Your Majesty…" he said, falling to his knees in a kowtow.
A Chance for Survival
"If you want me to spare your lives," he said, looking at the others, "then bring your armies and defeat the barbarians."
The Emperor's Gambit
There was silence at the Emperor's pronouncement — it was like the hall had grown quiet and even a pin drop would be heard. Those nobles in the hall knew that if the kingdoms gave their armies to the Emperor, he would have absolute control and he could even kill them and no one would raise a voice.
You could see it in their eyes and the smile that appeared on the Emperor's lips. He had finally cornered them. How dare they try to attack him — he had been relocating them because of their armies, and now the barbarians were here, he couldn't face them alone.
Caught in the Middle
What kind of situation am I finding myself in? Perry wondered. He had come to present Head Taker to the Emperor and then go back to his usual life, not to be in the middle of treasonous accusations between the other three kingdoms and Emperor Albert. He watched the leaders of the other kingdoms as they fidgeted and sweated, but one of them was smiling — it was like he had an ace up his sleeve. It seemed like the Emperor noticed it too, and so the smile slipped off his face.
"If I may, Great Emperor," Ragnor said as he bowed.
"Do you plead guilty to treason?" the Emperor asked, trying to buy time and figure out what the old man had up his sleeve.
"I plead for no such thing. I have committed no crime and there is no evidence pointing to me or the other kingdoms," he said with a bow.
"Then speak."
"If you want our armies," he said, looking around. He could feel the tension grow thick. He subtly watched the guards tighten their grip on their spears. "Then my armies will be yours under one condition — that after a hundred years, a descendant from my line will challenge the throne, and if he wins, the throne will be his. If you agree to this, then my armies are yours."
"A hundred years — is that not too much? None of us will be here by that time," the Emperor said.
"You never can tell. In this world, a lot is possible."
The Emperor turned to the other kingdoms, glaring at their leaders. "Do you also agree to such terms?"
They couldn't use their hand signals, knowing the Emperor knew the trick, and so they said, "We agree to it, Great Emperor."
A Secret Unearthed
There was silence at the dining table as everyone looked at Paulson. King Albert narrowed his eyes — this version wasn't in the public domain. Even his children were not aware of this pact. How did Paulson come to know about it?
"Paulson, how did you come about this information?" the King asked him.
"Told you, Father — I heard it right from a source present during that time."
"Don't be stupid. It is a hundred years ago — everyone at that time is dead," Wilson said.
"And I thought he was smart," Sultan said, shaking his head. He could smell roasted turkey coming from the direction of the kitchen. This story had sapped his energy — he needed to have a bite or two.
"Paulson!"
"Yes, Father!"
"Where did you hear this version? See, I have been preparing all of you for this day, because this contest will decide if we can continue as a royal family or not."
"You mean it is real, Father?" Annabelle asked.
"Yes, and I want to know Paulson's source."
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