A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 2077: Hurried Footsteps - Part 3

As Edward neared, a few men stole glances at him. Knights, in their armour, just like him. But also Treeant men, with war paint and blood covering their bare chests, and bloodthirsty looks in their eyes.

He stiffened, half-expecting them to stop him – but a glance was all he ever got. He was immediately dismissed, as if he were no larger than a fly. As if he were far from being a threat. A small blow to Edward’s pride, but one that came with an immense degree of relief. If he were to be insignificant, then let him be insignificant all the way to the gates of the keep.

He drifted in through the open spaces between the battalion squares, keeping his head down, making sure that he did not stare at one man too long and invite unnecessary attention. His footsteps felt terribly loud on the cobblestones, for the silence of the place. He was sure that there would be an instant that they all realized what he was up to – that he was a creature that intended to go against the intentions of their King. They’d surely sense something in him, and force him to stop, and reveal himself.

Only as far as the gates of the tall keep did they let him go. He glanced behind him, wondering if anyone would be given to shout. He climbed the first step up to the doorway, and then the second. It was on the third that a ringing "HALT!" was let loose.

A short man with wide shoulders, and no evidence of a weapon at his hip briskly neared him. The man stared him up and down. He had eyes that seemed as cold as stone. He grabbed Edward by the shoulder, and made him turn around. It was only then that Edward noticed the blades that were attached to his gauntlets. ’He fights like that?’ Edward thought. ’He sacrifices such a degree of reach, and simply stabs his foes as if he were punching them?’

"Who are you?" The man said, when he was satisfied with his inspection. Suspicion radiated from his eyes. "I do not recall your face. What business do you have in attempting to enter the keep?"

"A message for His Majesty, King Patrick," Edward responded, trying to keep his voice level. He had the sense that, if a fight were to break out between him and this man, despite the fact that they were both of the Second Boundary, he did not see the slightest chance of his own victory. The Patrick surcoat that the man wore seemed to paint him as a different creature entirely.

"A message from who?" The man asked coolly.

"Claudia," Edward replied. He had the sense that if he had lied, the man would have seen through him, and he’d have been in danger for it.

"Are you mad?" The man asked bluntly.

"Would you not rather your King decide that?"

"He’s busy with matters of the highest importance," the Patrick man said. "He would not wish to be interrupted by the likes of you."

"It is because he is busy with such matters that I have been sent. Would you get in the way of that?"

The man studied him for a while longer, twisting his face. "...I suppose there is little one man can do by his lonesome. Karesh!" He shouted to another man, far larger than he, toying with a great sword, his impatience evident.

"What?"

"I’m going to take this fool up to see King Patrick. Make sure no one enters after us."

"Eh? What? I’ll take him, Kaya. I’m tired of standing around."

"Karesh," Kaya said seriously. "This isn’t about us. Whatever is going on at the top of that keep, it’ll likely change this kingdom forever. Do you understand?"

"...No, I don’t."

"That’s why you ought to stay here," Kaya said. "The fighting is done. We’ve had our fill. There are more important matters that those above us need to tend to. You don’t want to get in our King’s way, do you? What sort of retainers would we be if we did that?"

"Aren’t you getting in his way, dragging an outsider up there?" Karesh said.

Kaya shrugged. "Perhaps. But I will let King Patrick be the judge of that. I’m going."

"Fine," Karesh said, clearly none too happy about it. "Bloody taking ages, all of this... Just kill the man and be done with it." He kicked a stone on the ground in front of him, sending it flying.

Edward was stunned at the nonchalance. They were talking about killing a King! How could they sit there so impatiently, how could they talk about it so lightly? Kaya had the right of it. Whatever decision might be made at the top of that keep was likely to change the Stormfront forever – but even Kaya did not give it its proper significance. They were all such strange creatures, that they could no longer feel it. How long had they dwelled in the realms that they had that such things were now incapable of moving them?

Even the Patrick soldiers, Edward quickly realized, were creatures that no longer could easily be defined.

"Are you going to move?" Kaya asked impatiently, seeing Edward still frozen on the stairs behind him.

Edward put a hand on the hilt of his sword to reassure himself, and then nodded sternly, following after the much younger, and yet far more confident man.

In through the doorway of the massive keep, the air temperature seemed to drop even cooler. ’Is this what it feels like, to be at the crux of a change in a country’s destiny?’, Edward thought to himself. It was as if change, all of a sudden, had a physical quality to it. As if the laws of progress that Claudia governed over had frozen and twisted themselves, so that even time itself was paused long enough for them to be felt.

It was a gravity that dragged them forward now, Edward felt. If he had wanted to stand in place like he had on the stairs entering the keep, he would have been unable to. His feet were pulled along by a will that was not his own. Only his eyes could look around freely, and marvel at the many doorways even on the ground floor of the keep. At the richness of the rug, most certainly imported from the Verna, with its diamond gold and deep red patterns.