The Golden Throne

Chapter 42: The Kaiserin

Luminous yellow torches warded off the darkness of the night. The sounds of several heavy, metallic footsteps bounced off the walls of the narrow corridor. Four heavily armoured generals were making their way to a chamber at the corridor's end. Among them was one who looked to be their supreme commander- an Archgeneral, if you may. His frame was solid, and his armour had ornate silver details with a blend of matte black. Trailing behind him was a black cape that fluttered in the air as wind blew from the open windows of the corridor. On his cape was the printed logo of the BISMARCK: a slightly altered version of Odara's symbol: the white four-leafed clover. The leaves of this logo were red, and shaped much thinner this time- looking more like the blades of a shuriken than the leaves of a clover. The two curved swords at either side of the clover was longer than how it was usually drawn in Odaran flags- their tips streaking upwards.

He donned a helmet that covered his entire face. A helmet with a gas mask as its visor and two red lenses for him to see through. His helmet, like the other three generals, had their own unique designs. Following them from behind were men dressed in armour similar, but not as detailed as theirs. It was obvious that these men were the common BISMARCK troops. They seemed to be escorting somebody.

The Archgeneral reached the end of the corridor, and pushed its two great doors open- stepping inside a massive, private chamber, high atop one of the palace's towers. Attached to the chamber was an open balcony that overlooked the North Odara Sea. A gold-trimmed red carpet reached from the two great doors all the way to the center of the chamber, where a child-sized hologram of the planet was projected upwards into the air.

"Your highness," the Archgeneral went inside first. Respectfully, he got down on one knee and bowed his head.

"Voltaire," Ripley chimed with mild interest, "what news?" She asked, looking away from the hologram of the world and at him. She was dressed in a beautiful, sleeveless, ruby-red gown that accentuated her shapely chest and hips perfectly, its colour matching her eyes.

The Archgeneral, Voltaire, got up on his feet and faced Ripley. Unlike other Odarans, his accent was English, and his voice carried the flair of a man of confidence, charm and wit. "The boys tasked with capturing Hilbert and killing off his friends has returned."

"And?"

"They've failed, my lady," he told her.

"Hans, execute those men and their families," she ordered calmly. She turned away from Voltaire and returned her attention to the hologram. "May this be an example of what will happen to those who fail me. Is that understood?"

Hans, one of the four generals, stepped forward and bowed his head, "I'll see to its completion personally, your highness," 

"Now, I believe that you have something else for me," Ripley said, her gaze not shifting away from the hologram.

One of the other generals- whose armour had a slender build and appeared more feminine, glanced over their shoulder and at the door, and with a muffled voice caused by their helmet, gave the order: "bring him in."

The doors flew open, and a more than eager guest burst through them, "Ripley Lilith Qurinius!" Zultan spread out his arms as he barrelled towards her, his BISMARCK escorts running after him to catch up. "You clever bastar- huh?"

"Too close," the female general said as she stopped Zultan dead in his tracks by pointing her sword at his neck. "Take another step towards her grace and I'll cleave your beastly head off."

"Sheathe your weapon, Dagmar," Ripley ordered.

Begrudgingly, she bowed her head and returned her weapon to its place. "Wretch," she stole a look at Zultan, muttering under her breath.