A Spoiled Rule

Chapter 4

The king did not get much rest. Yet, under normal circumstances he did not get much rest, therefore he neither minded nor complained.
The storm ravaged the portmaster's house well into the next morning, whereafter it relaxed into a soft tapping of rain on the wooden roof above. Harvey was drooling at the table where the king sat. Harvey's men were also slumped in their seats, snoring softly. Doctor Hummings seemed to get very little rest, for every time the king glanced at him the man was awake, sitting on the ground, observing silently. The king knew there was always one guard awake, watching should anything happen, and when he glanced at the stairs, he found the same guard from last standing there, though pretending not to pay mind to the king. The king stood and walked quietly over to the man, hoping the rain would muffle his movements. "What are you called?" the king asked quietly.
The guard straightened and looked nervous, though he answered the king straightaway. "Doverson, Your Majesty."
"And your first?" asked the king.
"Jackson," replied the guard.
"Did you get any sleep?" asked the king quietly.
The man flushed. "Oh, well, Your Majesty, I said I'd take first watch, and the captain and the other guards seemed to need sleep, so... I let them sleep. Forgive me, Your Majesty."
The king could hear the soft snores of the guards beyond the steps. He lowered his voice. "You will tell William that I request his presence, but not before he wakes, yes?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty," said Jackson quietly, nodding vigorously. Then, his eyes fell. "If I might... If I might add," he said to the floor, "Regarding the captain... I fear that he may lead us astray." He looked up at the king quickly. "I only say this out of nerves, Your Highness. Forgive me. I feel we all are a bit nervous for what is to come. And when the rain comes to cease, I do not wish to venture into Chroal. Yet your will be done, Your Highness."
"Chroal?" repeated the king sharply. "Why should you venture into Chroal?"
"W-William said that you gave the order to do so... to gather resources," added Jackson. "Your Majesty, are we not to venture into Chroal?"
"How could you, if the wall is up?" demanded the king.
"The captain said that the wall had not been erected because you commanded it to be so under Protocol Ninety-Three." Jackson lowered his voice to a whisper. "Your Majesty, I understand that my allegiance lies toward you, and with it utmost respect. I tell you this not to dismay you of the captain or myself, but to ensure that should the question arise, my allegiance lies with you. I cannot speak for anyone else, not even the doctor, for I do not know what occurs in others' minds. Now, please forgive me for rambling."
"You are forgiven," mumbled the king. He could see an alarming issue beginning to surface. He did not know for sure where William's allegiance lie. He knew it once lie confidently with the king, yet now, William was becoming unreliable. To have one of his guards so nervous that he must express concern to the king indicated bad leadership of the captain. "Tell William I request his presence right away."
Jackson nodded, and the king returned to his previous position. The rain had softened so he could no longer hear its cry. Doctor Hummings stood, looking at the king with his hands buried in his coat. The king stepped toward him. "Doctor Hummings, have you any inquiries on the symptoms of this disease?" asked the king. He hoped those awake would hear, for he needed to strike fear in William and the advisors. The king glanced around the room. His advisors were not present.
"My King, I have yet to gather more information, though after examining Gregory, I would suggest hemorrhage and extreme fatigue, along with disorientation," said Doctor Hummings.
"Have you any clue on the whereabouts of my advisors?" asked the king.
Doctor Hummings held eye contact with the king. "Your Majesty, they went out in night's wake and have yet to return."
They must have snuck out when he glimpsed sleep. The king turned, intending to call for William, but he was already there, standing at the top of the stairs. Sleep was gone from his eyes, and he stood attentively. "Your Highness," he said.
"William, the advisors have gone, and I wish them here. You must not venture toward Chroal."
William nodded. Immediately, the other four guards were at his side. "If we are unable to locate them, how long shall we search?"
"No more than an hour," said the king. "If you find any resources along the way, bring them."
William nodded. "As you wish, Your Majesty." He and his guards left, and the king could see the gray sky as the door opened and closed.
"That means us, too," said Harvey, whom had awoken. He stood, rubbed at his eyes, straightened his hat, and clapped his hands. "Come on, men!"
Harvey's two men stood, stretching their limbs.
"We gotta prepare the boat!" said Harvey enthusiastically. At that, his two men turned pale. Harvey slapped one on the back. "It's not a far walk! Let's go! King's orders!" Harvey led his men out into the day and closed the door behind them.
The king realized he was now without his guards. He could feel their absence, and instinctively scanned the room for them, but there were none. He felt their absence meant something had gone terribly wrong. He felt vulnerable, and much less strong without his guards to support him. Even when a child, he could remember guards always being present, ever so discreet. But now... Though he felt a slight power without their supervision, mostly, he felt scared. But he hid his fear for the better of Doctor Hummings, who was left in the room.
"I am pleased to report that the plague is not airborne," said Doctor Hummings with a humorous smile.
The king smiled. "Yes, that is good to hear."
The doctor suddenly grew nervous under the king's gaze, shifting his weight uncomfortably. The king had never seen the doctor nervous before, though he could imagine the doctor being nervous under a serious medical operation. Hummings always refrained from nerves when they spoke with each other. But there were always new things to be explored in light of the plague. "Is there something you are keeping from me, Stephen?"
Doctor Hummings cleared his throat. The king had never referred to the man via first name, and he felt odd doing so, but knew it was necessary. The doctor held an apologetic gaze. "I am aware that to ask you of anything would be regarded as rude and would be punishable to any extent, but I ask forgiveness to the most extent, Your Highness. It is unacceptable for me to withhold any information from you, no matter how I perceive its worth, but you must understand that I only did so out of respect for my father, Your Highness, and of the Late King."
The king frowned. His heart began to race. "Why is it that you speak of the Late King?"
"My father and he knew each other well, as I am sure you know," said Hummings. "I swore to my father that I would not speak of the Dínam War. The matter had not yet posed to be an issue until now, Your Highness, where I find myself stalling for more time under your reprimanding gaze. I deeply dislike being the one to tell you, but the Late King forbade my father and I from speaking of it."
The king's heart turned to ice. His father had always been a loving one, and the king thought his father to be of sound mind, full of wisdom. His mother had always been around to keep the Late King in check, and to keep love flowing throughout the kingdom. Even after she passed, the Late King had always been kind and fatherly toward his son. But to think that his father had been keeping a secret from his own heir to the throne was a monstrosity in itself. "I forbid you from keeping this from me," said the king strictly, though he was not sure he wanted to hear what the doctor had to say. "Stephen, you and I have been acquaintances since our youth, though forces have prevented us from speaking more often. Still, we each have held mutual respect toward each other and will continue to do so through our friendship forged from those before us. But if you refuse to speak even after I forbid you from doing so, I will have no choice but to look upon you as strictly a doctor and no more."
Doctor Hummings appeared hurt by what the king said, though he seemed to accept his hurt and use it as strength. "As you wish, Your Majesty. All that I tell you occurred before I was born, or when I was too young to recollect anything. Therefore these words come from my father and of yours." He took a deep breath. "Before your father, there lived a man whose name remains unknown. He was a great inventor in the Kingdom of Harksgold, and he, in fact, was the one who invented our suspensors."
The king frowned. He had made the incorrect assumption that the suspensors were relatively new.
"As he got older, darker things came into his life. The inventor turned toward other experiments; other inventions. The Late King therefore banished him from the kingdom, driving him into the sea. Shortly after, the war began."
"You say that the inventor is a Díne?" asked the king, flustered. Surely there must have been information transferred incorrectly. His father could not have started the war.
"I only know what I was told, no more," said Hummings apologetically. "Information was rightfully kept from me."
"My father drove the inventor into the sea? Was he trying to kill the inventor?" The king began to pace; a thing he would only do in private quarters. "Perhaps the inventor was evil, as you indicated, so my father had no choice. Or perhaps there is something we are missing; perhaps lies are in the mix. You say that we started the war? Why do you speak of this now?" The king turned toward Doctor Hummings. "You've had years to express concern to me, Stephen. My father perished four years ago! If you only expressed concern, I would have released you of your bondage!"
"This information would not have bettered the kingdom!" said Hummings. "We do not have adequate information! I did not want to see you troubled by this, Your Highness."
"My emotions are none of your concern," said the king harshly. He took a deep breath. He must reel in his anger, for it did not suit a king. "The matter in which the war started should not concern us. We need only to find an end. Perhaps this plague will see to that."
"Perhaps," said Doctor Hummings softly. "The Late King was a great king, Your Highness. All in the kingdom can testify to that."
"Yes," said the king softly, "he was."
The door opened, and in came the guards and the four advisors. The guards flanked the advisors on all sides, with William in the front. "Your Majesty, we have found the advisors," said William.
"Thank you, William," said the king. "Have you spotted the portmaster?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," said William. "He and his men are currently on the vessel, preparing it for Dínam."
The king noticed that William had phrased his sentence as if expecting a fight with Dínam. "Preparing it for us, you mean," said the king flatly.
"Yes, of course, Your Majesty," said William, returning the king's gaze.
The king noticed one of the guards, Jackson, had a thin but clear cut on his face. It did not bleed, but it was there, on his cheekbone. "Did you encounter any trouble?"
"A few of the diseased, Your Majesty," said William. "But we were able to combat them successfully."
Rudin scoffed. "Those things are mad! They're savages! You cannot combat savages! We can barely flee from them, let alone combat them!"
The king's gaze turned cold. William's betrayal was becoming more evident. "So you did not combat any diseased?"
"We did, Your Majesty," said William. "I did. You can have my blade as evidence."
"Very well," said the king.
William pulled out his golden blade and passed it tenderly to the king. The blade was slick with blood. "Do well to sanitize it the best you can," said the king, handing it gingerly to William. "Rudin, why do you contradict evidence?"
The advisor flushed. "My apologies, Your Majesty. The sight of those monsters must have scrambled my brain."
"They are not monsters," said the king quietly. His heart ached for his people, who were hurting, suffering under the weight of the plague. Perhaps he ought to have made his own revision of Protocol 93. He could have done better. "William, what is the state of your guards?"
"All accounted for and all healthy, Your Majesty," said William with a nod.
"Might I ask what the mark is from, on one of your guards' face?" asked the king.
William turned and examined his four guards. His eyes stopped on Jackson, and William's jaw tightened. He turned to face the king, his hands behind his back. "I am embarrassed to admit that I do not know, Your Majesty. All the men, including the advisors, were under my gaze once we were together."
"Then the man shall speak for himself," said the king.
Jackson took a small step forward. The other guards stared at him with blank faces. "Y-Your Majesty..." Jackson cleared his throat, and suddenly, it was as if a switch had been flipped inside of him. He gazed at the king with a blank stare, customary of any guard. "It was an accident, Your Majesty. I was adjusting my suspensors, when I lost my footing and fell. I scraped my face on a shard of glass that had once been a window to a home, of which had been burned. I should have reported it right away, but I was fearful of the nearing diseased. The Captain did not see this because it happened quickly and he was readying the advisors."
"Very well," said the king immediately. He did not want to admit his suspicion. "You are forgiven."
Jackson took a small step back.
"I apologize for my lack of communication and lack of guard," said William sincerely. "It will-"
There came a sudden bang at the door. It was not the bang of thunder; no, this bang was not unlike those at the royal doors of the palace. The wooden door of the portmaster's house was brittle and shook unsteadily in its hinges. William pulled out a gun that was strapped to his leg, and so did his guards. "Who's there?" William said loudly, stepping in front of the king.
The banging did not stop. The king remarked how strong those on the other side must be, and how numb to pain.
Suddenly, the door was knocked from its hinges and fell with a clatter in front of William. On the other side stood a mob of the diseased. Both men and women were in the mix, with a child leading the pack. Their complexions were sickly and their eyes glazed. Most were bloody, with gashes deep in their skin. The poor child's arm was mangled, and all clothing was torn and dirtied. The group let out snarls that seemed physically impossible to achieve, and ran inside the room. The guards fired, knocking them down before they laid a hand on them. In an instant, the group lie at the guards' feet.
"Well," said Rudin loudly, cowering behind even the king. "I suppose they can be killed!"
"It'd be wise of you to refrain from speaking," said Charles sourly.
William immediately turned toward the king. "Are you alright, Your Majesty?"
The king gazed at the little boy, whose head was now bashed with a bullet. The boy's mangled arm was inches from William's boot. "You did well, and acted very quickly," said the king quietly. He then gazed at the fallen door. "Head to the ship! The house will not stand."
William nodded and pulled at his suspensor flaps. The king did the same and planted his feet, hearing his boot suspensors click into place. The advisors were a bit clumsy at this, along with Doctor Hummings, so the king assisted the doctor first in his suspensors. William, readily holding his gun, slowly led the group out onto the porch. The sky was cloudy with smoke from Chroal, and in the distant sea, a large ship was waiting for them. The king was going to see whether the wall had been put around Chroal, when his heart fluttered painfully in his chest. A much larger group of the diseased was nearing at an alarming speed. This group consisted of hundreds, and they tripped over each other and snarled, screamed and lunged. Most were coming from Chroal, but some came from other directions. And suddenly they were bounding up the side stairs to the porch, and in the blink of an eye they were running at the king. The king's training from when he was a youth took over, and he grabbed the net shooter hidden at his waist. He shot at one in the front of the mob, and immediately it was entangled in a net and had fallen, causing those behind it to stumble and fall. Using these extra seconds, the king jumped off the porch and felt the air catch him roughly, as if even the suspensors knew they were in trouble. He stopped after he had flown a few feet and turned. Henry, who had been last to leave the portmaster's house, was being dragged and torn at by the diseased. His cries echoed with those of his attackers, and saliva and blood spurted from his mouth. Rudin, who was just in front of Henry, jumped off the porch, but his chest suspensor must have failed, for he flew at an angle straight toward the ground and crashed, where a few stragglers of the diseased began to gnaw on his bashed body. William and his guards were in the air next to the king, and William was firing at the mob, but no matter how many he put down, more replaced them. Some of the diseased began to fling themselves off of the porch railing, desperate to get at them. The king pointed his feet and flew at an alarming speed for the ship, where he could see the portmaster at the wheel. He dug in his heels and landed on the deck of the ship next to a tall sail that hung limply. William and his guards landed next, followed by a pale Doctor Hummings, and the advisors, Charles and Oliver.
"Get us out of here!" shouted Charles, grabbing the golden railing and looking out at the hundreds of the diseased running toward the shore. The king hurried toward Harvey, who was on a raised deck with the wheel. "Cut the ropes!" Harvey ordered his two men, who used curved blades to slash the ropes tying the boat to the dock. Harvey leaned over to the king, who sensed his guards tense. "You best hold onto somethin', Your Majesty."
The king grabbed the railing beyond the wheel. Harvey reached down and pulled a lever at the right of the wheel, and a series of mechanical clicks and booms sounded from deep within the ship.
The king heard a struggle behind him, and he turned to find William stabbing a diseased that had climbed to the railing.
Suddenly, the ship sped ahead with an unsettling lurch, and the king's knuckles turned white against the railing. Gusts of water whipped the king's face, and wind rushed past his ears. For a moment, he could neither see or hear anything, until he began to feel the slaps of water lessen on his face and the cry of wind diminish. He opened his eyes and found the ship still cruising impressively, though at a calmer speed. Harvey was still at the wheel, and he looked over at the king. "Apologies, Your Highness, for the bumpy ride. Still workin' on the smoothness of the propellers."
"Not to worry," said the king with a small smile, letting go of the railing. "Wonderful job."
Harvey shrugged. "Lost my hat," he said, followed by a series of mumblings.
"My King," said Doctor Hummings, holding a worn hat in his hands. Harvey snatched it and placed it precariously upon his matted nest of hair. "I feel we are safe for now, though I will keep watch to determine whether they can swim," said Doctor Hummings.
The king nodded. "See to it, Doctor Hummings."
The doctor nodded and headed for the railing, passing William, who was walking with a purpose for the king. He stopped before the railing and glanced at Harvey. "Your Majesty, I request a word with you in private."
"There's some rooms in the deck below," said Harvey. "Take any one of 'em, Your Highness."
The king walked with William to a door near the middle of the deck, where beyond sat a set of wooden stairs that curved downwards. The king did not speak until he found an inner room below deck. He closed the door. A light automatically came to life, buzzing faintly.
"Your Majesty, I wish to speak of my performance thus far," said William.
The king frowned. "William, you make an excellent captain. My opinion does not change because of the plague."
"I failed to save two of your advisors," said William. "I also shot without permission back at the portmaster's house, my guards following suit, which, I believe, led us here now due to the noise."
"We are all dealing with an unknown enemy," said the king wisely. "Had you not taken action, none would have made it here now."
"I have also been selfish," said William, his head low. "My loyalty lies with you, yet I find myself torn between the snake and the truth sayer."
"The advisors are like snakes, indeed," said the king softly. "Do everything in your power to resist temptation, William. Temptation is what led to my father's downfall, and I do not wish to see it lead to yours."
William nodded. "I understand, Your Majesty. Thee tongue is thy greatest enemy."
"Indeed," said the king. "Do not get caught in its snares, William. I do not wish to relieve you of your duties."
"Yes, Your Majesty," said William. "Shall I purge the men of their guns?"
"You shall," said the king. "They will only lead to more trouble. William, it is not a matter of trust but a matter of security when I ask you whether that guard did indeed fall and cut his face?"
"If he lies, I am unaware," said William. "I will see to it that he tells the truth. If I find a truth that contradicts yours, I shall report it immediately."
"But you will keep up morale," ordered the king. "I do not need that guard or any of the others to have a low morale, especially at such critical times."
"Understood, Your Majesty," said William. With a curt bow, he left the king, heading to the upper deck.
The king took a deep breath, and let his shoulders slump. He was, once again, alone and in silence. He pondered on when William began to grow distant from the king. Perhaps it was when the king began conversing with Doctor Hummings about the advisors, which would have been no more than six months ago. Or perhaps William sought distance because he did not want to go through the pain of losing his king. Perhaps they grew distant due to the king's laziness. But the king did not consider himself lazy. He was a calm king, quick to ponder rather than punish. Perhaps William thought there'd be more action in his line of duty.
The room suddenly lurched to the side, and the king lost his footing, stumbling into a table anchored in the center of the room. He gripped its edge and precariously looked up, as if he'd see the source of the commotion. Again, the ship lurched, and the king stumbled into a shelf. He heard the door to the room open, though the king knew it was his guards and did not focus on them. Instead, he focused on a knife that was secured on the shelf. Something about it struck the king. Its blade was not unlike the blade of other knives, golden and sharp. But what struck the king as odd was its handle. The handle was of worn leather which was uncharacteristic of most Harksgold blades. There was an inscription carved, and it read,
"Long Live The King."
The king was suddenly unsettled. No loyal guard would hide their blade in a vessel of the portmaster's. Besides, this ship was relatively new, and no guards were with the portmaster or near the portmaster's territory under the king's rule. He preferred to leave Harvey to his peace. This blade was old, possibly even older than the Late King.
The ship gave another lurch, and the blade sliced into the king's hand. Immediately he hid the blade and the blood behind himself as his guards came to his side. The king felt them usher him out of the room, back up the stairs to the upper deck. Rain whipped the king's face and mixed with the blood from his hand dripping to the wooden planks below. The sea roared, louder than thunder, and waves crashed against the side of the ship. Harvey was barely discernible through the mist of rain, and the guards slipped into their secret yet discernible posts. The king gripped onto the railing, beyond which stood Harvey, struggling at the wheel. "Is it the storm?" shouted the king, the taste of salt on his tongue.
"It ain't rain, it's the sea!" shouted Harvey, tugging at the wheel. "Dínam does not want us out here, Your Majesty!"
This angered the king, and he gripped the railing even harder, pain blossoming in his left hand. He had concealed the blade in his gear, so hopefully his guards were unaware. "It is in the Protocol! It is their duty to take us in!" shouted the king.
One of Harvey's men stumbled to his side. "Captain, the propellers are no longer working!"
"Secure the sail before it rips!" shouted Harvey, using one hand to secure his own hat. "Your Majesty, it may be best to get back down to the lower-"
The ship was suddenly drowning with water that wrapped around the king and rushed up his nose. Then, air came to him and he choked and spat out the salt in his lungs. A huge wave had crashed over him and had carried him and his guards across the deck. He stood unsteadily to his feet.
"There goes my hat!" Harvey snarled.
"Steer back to shore!" ordered the king. His guards were at his side.
"I'm tryin', but none of the navigation's workin'," shouted Harvey.
The king needed to find Charles. As much as he disliked the man, Charles held more knowledge than the king on matters relating to internal and foreign relations. He assumed the advisors were hiding beneath, so he let go of the railing and stumbled back for the stairs. Another wave crashed over, the force of the water knocking the king and his guards to the floor. The king's chest suspensor dug into his shoulders. He scrambled to his feet and slid to the stairs, grabbing roughly onto the wooden railing. He skipped down the steps into the rocky but more secure lower deck. He could hear the wood creak from the strain of the waves, and inside rooms, lights flickered on and off automatically. The king immediately began his search, walking in the middle of the deck, glancing inside rooms to his left and right. He saw one of Harvey's men pacing inside one, muttering like a madman. Fear must have overtaken the poor man. In that moment, the king wanted to be a boy again, enduring royal training and courtships yet still making fun of little things that boys made fun of. But even as a boy, he was sworn with a duty to protect the kingdom and better it; to be a fair and honest king. Wishing himself to be elsewhere was not fair of him. Honest, sure, but not fair.
The king stopped near the back of the deck. He found Charles and Oliver inside a room, sitting at a table, possibly plotting to embarrass the king even at such a time. "Charles," said the king.
The advisors turned but did not stand. They both were pale and sickly, understandably from the rocking of the ship. "If we were to fall into the sea, would the Dínes take us in?" asked the king.
Charles' eyes widened. "Fall into the sea? I thought that portmaster was king of the portyard! Shouldn't he be able to get us out of a rocky sea?"
"You will answer my question!" the king ordered.
Charles swallowed nervously. "Under the original Protocol Ninety-Three, yes, they would take us in, but under the revision of Protocol Ninety-Three, it would mean intrusion."
The king was furious. "By what means would we intrude?"
"The revision states that a Díne stepping into Harksgold territory during the plague would cause suspicion, most likely because they would try to draw the monsters toward our own kingdom. Likewise, if one of Harksgold treaded into their waters, it would mean drawing more monsters into Dínam."
"Yet I denied that revision, and the Dínes are not aware of it," said the king. He could sense his guards nearby, and he wanted to use them, but he restrained his temptation.
Charles swallowed. "No, the Dínes are not aware of it. So should we fall, they will catch us."
The king knew Charles was lying. No advisor of his would agree without argument, nor answer without hesitation. He looked to Oliver. "Could the Dínes use their own law against ours?"
Oliver gripped his chair. "You speak of a war against laws and proclamations... In a state of crisis such that we are in now, any kingdom is allowed to act according to their own law. They are not technically obliged to abide by the laws enacted for a crisis."
"If we were to make peace with the Dínes during the plague, would that peace last should the plague end?" asked the king.
"It depends on the terms of peace, Your Majesty," said Oliver.
"And if one of the Dínes was actually that of Harksgold, what would be their fate?"
Charles stood, holding onto the wall. "A Díne, yet one of us?" he snarled. "Why do you make such a speculation, Your Majesty?"
The king finally understood why his advisors treated him with the utmost disrespect. They must know of the lost inventor; the one thrown into the sea for his evil inventions. Perhaps they sought to dispose of their king and impose another; one of great technological knowledge. Perhaps they fancied a revolution. "No mercy will be spared," warned the king.
Both Charles and Oliver nodded. "Your Majesty," they said as the king left their presence. He stumbled toward the stairs. He stepped like a drunk man and prayed Harvey could steady the situation. He climbed the stairs, having to also use his hands, and when he reached the upper deck, chaos greeted him. Again, he could hardly see the portmaster. Waves towered over the king and splattered onto the deck. One of the waves seemed to have carried William and the guard Jackson, and they thumped heavily against the deck. The king rushed to them. "William, where have you come from?" shouted the king.
William and his guard stood to their feet. "I tried to help the portmaster by using the suspensors to secure the sails!" said William breathlessly. "The waves knocked us down!"
Distant cracking sounded. The king gripped the railing with all his might as the deck began to flip. A mighty wave faced the king. He closed his eyes as the wave smacked into the ship, tearing his hands from the railing. The force of the wave caused the king to lose consciousness, water rushing up his nose.