Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

WORLDS COLLIDE 8.2

The slaves were dragged into the central square with a total lack of dignity, as if they were pigs to be slaughtered before the spring festival. Dannke appeared with Yolti, the new captain of the guard, and several soldiers. Since the executioners had not yet heard the good news, he was not given the welcome he deserved. The horsemen of death continued to execute the slaves, five at a time, and throw the bodies into a cart to be burned. The bloody spectacle no longer interested the mob, who no twice looked in that direction.

Dannke looked at Yolti and nodded slightly. An order from him alerted the trumpeters, and they sounded their instruments with a great roar, drawing the attention of the uninformed soldiers and the people.

"By order of His Majesty," cried Yolti, "Emperor Dannke I, all slaves must be freed."

The soldiers looked at each other in confusion. The highest-ranking one approached angrily.

"What kind of joke is this? I thought the assembly would name Nimeral Tenor."

"You thought wrong, Knight," said Dannke. "Here you see the ring on my finger and the scepter in my hand."

Without giving the guard time to absorb what had just happened, Dannke climbed onto the scaffold and cut the slaves' ropes with his sword. Then he turned and addressed the others.

"You are free to go about your lives. Great changes will now begin under my rule. I cannot yet promise you absolute freedom, for that will be a bitter struggle against the voices of the past, but with this document, which I have written and which you see in my hand, I guarantee you the minimum of unalterable rights. Namely, the right to life, the right to a fair trial, and the right to dignity. This means that no one can kill you just because you are slaves. Therefore, this arbitrary execution and display of inhumanity will stop at this very moment."

As expected, the slaves did not react euphorically. At a signal from Dannke, Yolti's subordinates began cutting the ropes that bound them.

"Remember, you are still slaves. Return to your masters or you will be tried and punished accordingly. If you choose to flee into the sewers, do so only to deliver the following message to the rebel leader: ..."

The slaves heard and scattered at a brisk pace, wary of his promises and turning every few steps to make sure they were not killed from behind. The one who commanded the slaughter rebuked him, dissatisfied.

"They revolt and you reward them? It makes no sense."

Yolti pointed his spear, but Dannke stopped him.

"What is your name?"

"Ristell."

"Hear me, Ristell, the rebellion started precisely because of this irrational display of severity suggested by the idiot previous captain of the guard. How many have you killed this week? A thousand, two thousand? That's barely a fraction of the total number of non-human slaves in Les Iuria. What's worse is that many humans have joined them, giving them even more reason to support the invasion and demonstrating our inability to keep track of them in the old sewers. The only thing we achieved was to waste resources that could have been used to prepare defenses and to turn a large part of the population against us. And I don't like the way you address me," he said to the others. "Attention, if Ristell dares to use the Imperial armor again, or to wield a weapon in the name of the Empire, arrest him and take him to the dungeons for trial! He is dismissed from the guard."

He turned, mounted his new steed, and rode back to the castle. The winter days were short and the tasks were many. He still had to repair several other disasters caused by the lack of vision of his predecessors.

On the march, he paused for a moment and his gaze wandered wistfully up the rugged Street of Memories. He ordered Yolti to return alone, dismounted and handed him the reins.

"Please, Your Majesty, let at least two..."

"No! Thank you, but I do not wish to live in fear. I prefer privacy on this occasion."

Yolti nodded and they continued on their way. Dannke entered the winding, lonely street. While all of Les Iuria was splashed with sapphire, the Street of Memories was gray, as if sadness had eaten all the color out of the world. At the end was the gate to the cemetery. The caretaker, a grim man as one might expect, greeted him.

"Dannke, I haven't seen you for a long time. I feared the worst."

"Now I confirm the best. I am no longer a bastard, I am the new Emperor."

The caretaker smiled slightly and bowed.

"I heard they had appointed a new one, but I didn't think it would be you... I mean, thou What should I call thee?"

"Dannke, Dannke I. No need to be so formal."

The caretaker raised his eyebrows in surprise before saying, "I wish you a prosperous reign. Tell me, what brings you to these grounds?"

"It's been a long time since I visited her."

The caretaker nodded, walked over to the gate and opened it. The lock was not in place. As Dannke entered, he knew why: the bodies of the slaves were piled up in the innermost part of the cemetery. When enough were collected, they would be set on fire and their bones thrown into a mass grave. Dannke saw some beautiful gravestones with fine carvings, some more rustic ones covered with mold, and some that were nothing more than a rotten plank of wood. But where he went, there were no gravestones at all. At the roots of a large elm tree, dried and leafless, he knelt down and looked at the earth. Among hundreds of bones of dubious provenance lay his mother. Little more than a whore to many, including his father.

"Look, mother, look at this ring. Do you know what it means? I am the emperor now. You always called me king, and now I am more than that. I wish you were here to see it. I wish that bastard Rathban did too. I don't know how he would feel, but you, you would be proud for sure. And that's more important. You know? The thought of you having to share your grave with so many others while he's cozying up in a spacious mausoleum gnawed at me for a long time. Then I remembered that it doesn't matter, that it's nothing but soulless bones," Dannke laughed and shook his head. "In that case, there's no point in me talking to you either."

Dannke looked around at the rest of the graveyard. No ring would keep him from ending up there, buried in a fancy oak grave or under the roots of a withered tree.

"We are all whores in the ground," he whispered and walked away, never to return. At least not alive.