The Reformation Wars: Conflicts Rekindled

Chapter 11

Deté 25th, 994 A.D.

Two days after Princess Katherine Alder of Monterayne and her trio of raggedy fellow escapees had departed from the Innutukian imperial palace, tensions still hadn't simmered down. Team after team of horsemen still galloped off from the stables, as if any amount of hurry would render them able to catch up and bring her back. The whinnying of horses, the thundering of their hooves, and the shouts of men-at-arms filled the air constantly.

A pudgy man with a thick red beard and an empty scabbard swinging at his hip ascended the grand steps of the palace, hands clasped tightly together behind his back by the pair of guards who escorted him. He hung his head and maintained a somber countenance as they entered the doors and made their way to the throne room.

All too soon, they had already entered, and the redheaded man crossed the velvet carpet leading up to Emperor Hakentaknid's imposing throne. The seated monarch glared down at the newcomer for several tense moments, a dreadful silence lingering in the chamber that nobody dared to break.

Finally, the emperor spoke, sending chills down the pudgy man's spine. "Deljegne Ellesante," he addressed him, "it has been far too long since I have seen your ugly excuse for a face."

Deljegne shrugged, eyes fixed on the floor. "I've been busy."

"You have been busy with what exactly? Because I have been expecting to get service out of you and yet have seen nothing."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"You know very well what I speak of!" Emperor Hakentaknid roared, "My secret ally trained both you and your sister in the art of Monteraynian swordsmanship, did he not?"

"He did."

"Then why is it that only she proceeded to be of use to the Empire, becoming a thorn in the side of the eastern nations for seven years before her honorable death? Where were you while she was doing that?"

Deljegne finally met the emperor's eyes, emboldened by irritation. "I was never as good as Keely. Never could've been. See these scars?" He lifted his shirt up, revealing a potbelly with five long dull lines scratched into it. "I got all of those in training duels with my teacher. I was that bad. To this day, I understand the concepts of what he taught, but my body just wasn't made to execute them myself."

"You're useless, then. And given what you were just caught doing to those noblewomen at my very doorstep, it is obvious what must be done with you."

Deljegne nearly trembled, but he held his frame and inhaled. "What's that?"

"Use your head while you still have it, boy. What do you think I speak of?"

"You don't...mean to execute...no, your majesty, I'm far too useful for you to do that! Too much unused potential."

Emperor Hakentaknid narrowed his eyes and held up a halting hand to a servant who had been creeping in from the side with an executioner's axe in his hands. Then he turned back to Deljegne and laughed heartily. "You suddenly have unused potential now; is that so? And how can this be?"

"I'm no fighter, but I can be a teacher. I mean no offense, your majesty, but you seem to have overlooked the superior advantage of Monteraynian swordsmanship that is now in your grasp. It's as if you don't understand why your ally trained Keely and I in the first place."

"You had better hasten to your point while you still have lips to do so."

Deljegne scratched his thick beard. "Unencumbered by armor, their swordsmen can be far more nimble than ours, with much greater freedom of movement. In the time your guards take to swing one weighed-down blow, a Monteraynian knight could make three. Such teaching resides in my head. But you can cut it off if you still want to."