Ignoring History - Ranger's Apprentice Fanfiction

Chapter 35

~☕Crowley☕~

Following Egon's death, Crowley had wished that the rest of the mission would be easy. That, however, was not the case. Nothing was ever easy, especially not a revolution that aimed to overthrow a king. That was one of the first things Crowley had learned during his apprenticeship, and after all these years, it still proved to be true.

Drawing in a deep breath, Crowley tried to relax. He stopped pacing along the ramparts of Castle Araluen, and he dropped his arms to rest on either side of him. He sighed as he looked out into the distance, eyes searching the scene for any sign of movement.

After hearing the alarm the guards set off, Tiller had barricaded himself inside the throne room with whatever forces he had left. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem. Crowley and his team could have broken in with ease. It was just a room. However, the throne room was Castle Araluen's last resort in case of siege. That meant it was the most protected room in the whole castle, built to endure time itself. It was sealed shut, and no one could get in. Not even Duncan, who had spent his childhood wandering the castle halls, knew of a way inside.

Crowley had hope though. It took much convincing, but he managed to assure Duncan that they could break in. The castle would take a heavy beating—fire and rock did that to things—but it would be worth it in the end. Besides, Crowley was sure that they could rebuild the castle stronger than ever... even if it would take years.

A few days had passed since then, and Crowley found himself to be more anxious than ever. Good progress had been made into the throne room, but there was no telling if they were going fast enough. By then, Morgarath could have caught wind of what was going on. Tiller could have sent word, and not even Halt could have stopped Morgarath from taking action.

Leaning forward against the walls of the ramparts, Crowley sighed. He could hear the constant thump of the battering ram that worked to break into the throne room from his position. Already, the areas around the throne room had been decimated. Crowley and Berrigan had set off several fires in hopes of burning through as much wood as possible in order to find a way in. They had even burned quite a bit of the door, weakening the wood so that Stanley and his people would have an easier time with the battering ram.

"Crowley!" came the voice of Prince Duncan.

Crowley turned, pushing himself to stand up straight. "What is it?" he said. "Did something happen? Are we in?"

Duncan shook his head, sighing. "I wish," he said, "but no. Lady Pauline has found something that I think you would find pretty interesting."

"Oh?" Crowley said. "What is it?"

Duncan motioned Crowley to follow him into the castle. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Duncan led him up a flight of stairs. "It seems as if my father had written a will," he said.

"A will?" Crowley echoed. His eyes widened. "Where did she find it?"

"Behind a painting in my father's old room." Duncan tried to smile. "I don't think Morgarath thought to check there."

"What's in it?"

Duncan shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "We thought we should have you in the room when we open it."

Crowley stared at Duncan incredulously. "Why are we walking so slow, then?" he said. "Come on!"

They barely made it a few steps before someone called their names. Crowley shared a glance with Duncan before spinning on his heels and backtracking.

"Stanley?" he said, blinking when he found the village constable climbing the stairs. "Did something happen?"

Stanley held up a hand, leaning against the wall as he struggled to catch his breath. "Yes," he said, coughing. Sweat dripped down the side of his head. "The door into the throne room. We broke through."

Crowley hadn't even processed the words when he leapt into action. His boots slammed against the floor as he dashed down the stairs and down the hall. His heart raced. Just a few moments ago, he had thought that it would take a day or two more to break inside. And somehow, it was happening right then and there. He couldn't believe it.

Bursting into the room, Crowley ran past the broken doors. He slid to a sudden stop, jaw dropping when it finally hit him that they had done it. He looked around the throne room.

It was a vast room, spanning tens of meters in both length and width. The floor was a checkered pattern made of black and dull pink marble, but much of it was cracked and split. On the walls, the banners of Araluen had been replaced with the ones of Gorlan. No doubt that Morgarath had thought it was a good idea to plaster his colors to show his dominance. Perhaps the one thing that was still intact was the stained glass windows of red, blue, gold, and orange— a strange combination with the floor, but the room was so grand that it somehow worked.

Crowley, however, didn't have an eye for the unusual design choices of the room. His focus was centered on Stanley's men and how they had beaten the remainder of Tiller's guards, who were strewn together with rope. Tiller was tied to a chair separate to his guards, a cloth stuffed into his mouth. His face was beet red.

Berrigan looked up from where he was standing next to Tiller. He met Crowley's eyes and nodded. His face was grim, dark under his cowl. He held his saxe knife in his hand. Clearly, Tiller hadn't been the most cooperative of people.

"Now that I'm seeing him in person, I can see how everyone thought he was me," Duncan whispered quietly.

Crowley cracked a small grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'd say that's a good thing," he murmured. "We can finally prove your innocence."

Duncan went quiet. He looked at Crowley, a newfound light in his eyes. "I hadn't thought of that," he said.

"That's why you have us rangers."

Moving towards Tiller, Crowley glanced around the room to make sure that everyone who needed to be there. He nodded once when Lady Pauline entered before turning to face Tiller.

"Baron Tiller," Crowley said, his voice ringing in the large room. He paused for a moment, unsure of where to start. There was so much that Tiller could tell them, so many things that would help the revolution. Crowley exhaled. Seeing as he had just mentioned it with Duncan, he should just start by clearing his name.

Then, slowly but surely, Tiller would reveal everything he knew. The village people would be there to witness everything, and they would spread his words to their family and friends, who would then share the information with their family and friends.

Rumors spread like wildfire and they grew into tall tales, but there was a bit of truth in all of them. And a little bit of truth was all the revolution needed to turn the tide.

With King Oswald's will and Tiller's capture, things were finally starting to look up.