Fantasizing a war - A Sanders Sides Trilogy

Pain

Roman cried without a sound. He'd been doing so for the past five hours, on the ground, in his bedroom. No one had dared to enter. No one was even moving around the castle.

Philip was dead. Killed while out for a ride by the men in grey armour. He had obviously tried to fight them off and push them away from the city. His throat had been cut. He had only been an old man.

Roman blamed himself. Naturally. It was his fault. He'd spent all that time protecting Virgil from the curse and had never thought of his father. "Stupid unicorns..." He whispered for the fifth time in the past three minutes. "Stupid curse..."

He could remember when he had been told. It had been a pretty good day before then. He'd received an update from Joan, saying that the imp was losing her sense of direction, meaning they were close, and Maria had managed to strengthen the defence around all the main cities and villages. And then his advisor arrived at his doorstep, looking solemn and grief-stricken.

The people knew. Roman hadn't told them, but the farmer who'd seen it had rushed into Cabina City screaming and crying all about it. The King was just waiting for all the apologetic notes and letters to come flooding in.

"Why did that unicorn run out at us in the first place, huh? Why couldn't it have stayed where it bloody lived?" He muttered harshly, glaring at his bedroom floor. Roman wiped the tears from his cheeks, but it was a fruitless attempt as more kept pouring down like a waterfall. He shuffled over to his wardrobe on his hands and knees, not in the mood for standing. He climbed to the second floor. 

This hadn't been changed for the past five years. It was still where Virgil had slept a long time ago after he'd fallen off a balcony and it was still where he and his friends had played to hide away from his father. He wanted to take all of that back.

Roman finally stood up from his slumped position on the ground and walked to the wall. The latest addition to this room had been a portrait painted of him on his coronation. He held it gently by the frame and lifted it off the wall, placing it on the ground.

Backing away from this now empty gap, he climbed back down the ladder and left his room. None of the servants dared to stop him or ask if he was okay. Angelica Schuyler had turned the corner, saw her King and let him pass without a word.

Roman walked into the throne room and walked behind his throne and walked to the wall. Up there was a painting of him and his father. He'd been seventeen when it had been done and Roman could remember how much his face had hurt after its' completion. He picked it up by the ornate wooden frame and lifted it down from the wall. It was heavy.

A servant approached him with a silent offer of help but Roman ignored him. He carried the painting under one arm.

Upon the arrival of his room, he used his foot to open the door. Carefully, he weaved the painting up the ladder and he hanged it on the wall where he'd removed the coronation painting.

Roman sat down, bringing his knees up to his chest as he hunched over himself. He stared at his fathers face. "Stupid unicorn curse..."

.:*:.

Deceit had arrived the moment he heard. He had entered the throne room with his usual style but there was no flair to it. There was only a desperate sorrow. Having lost his brother and now a good friend, the Dark King knew Romans' grief all too well. The two had sat in silence, just holding each other in the shared pain. Remus had been there. Remus hadn't made a single joke. He just asked if he could see Philip one last time.

And then Deceit began to cry. He just cried without moving as he said in Romans' ear, "I'm losing everyone."

.:*:.

Roman was down in the dungeons. He looked at the three people in grey armour. Whenever he was usually down here, they'd be jeering and sneering. Now they stared at him with fear.

He had obviously been crying and the pain was still screaming from every ounce of his body. He looked at the people in grey armour with a blank stare.

"What's happening?" Croaked the biggest man. He'd always been the first to taunt. Now he was the first to crack in the heavy silence

Roman didn't let his stare waver. "Your people killed my father." The prisoners gasped, eyes widening fearfully. "He was just an old man," Romans' voice bleed with pain as he continued, tears beginning to form in his eyes, "Just an old man trying to stop your friends from stealing our children. They slit his throat, did you know that?"

The three prisoners shook their heads frantically. The smallest began to cry too.

"I want to kill you for it," Roman whispered hoarsely. "I want to kill you because your people took my father from me. Your people have left me an orphan with no one to turn to." His face finally broke away. "And I'm only twenty-three. I've only just had my lover snatched away from me by your people and my friends have left to find him and now you've taken the man that raised me. I want to kill you."

The smallest pushed himself into the arms of the biggest man for protection. All three were crying now, but it wasn't out of pity. It was out of selfish fear and Roman sympathised.

The King felt his shoulders droop. "But you have done nothing. You have followed orders. It's not you who killed my father. But someone has and you are the people who are here now. And I will kill you if you don't help me punish the ones who deserve it."

"Please don't kill us..." The medium-sized one whimpered.

"Tell me how to get to your home. Tell me how to punish the people who have hurt me. And you can live." Roman knelt down by the prisoners, his voice dangerously quiet.

The smallest whispered, "B-But that would be heresy..."

"Heresy or life." Muttered the biggest one. "I choose life. I have a family to get back to."

Roman smiled. "And I don't. Let's not keep your family waiting."

The big man swallowed nervously. "The portal is in a field next to a cover of trees between your two 'Realms'. It's just on your side of the border. That is where we walk to and from. It's guarded constantly and you can only get through peacefully in our grey armour. Otherwise, you'd need to fight your way in."

"See, was that so hard?" The King pulled away from the prisoners, standing up. "You three will take my armies there. We won't harm too many people. Only those who have harmed me and my people. And I'm pretty sure," Roman said over his shoulder as he began to leave the dungeons: he cast a glance filled with grief driven fury at the cowering men, "that's everyone."