The Prince of Aragon

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE FAKE STORY

The next day at breakfast, both Emperor Salvatore and Princess Freya were looking at Novak with a quizzical frown. After having lost to him, they still couldn’t quite make out how someone as young as him could have mastered the Musashi tactics.

Emperor Salvatore was experienced enough in combat to figure out that the tricks that Sommerville had utilized did not occur in a vacuum. It wasn’t just about delivering the right cuts, but one had to also consider winning factors in the environment to one’s advantage, such as the position of the sun to distract one’s opponent, or waiting for the exact moment he would lose his balance in the chase.

The victory of the previous night couldn’t be pinned to sheer coincidence. Carter Sommerville was one worthy opponent, and the Emperor was glad they were on the same side, that a man like him was protecting his life.

“Where did you learn to fight like this?” the Emperor queried in a grave voice.

Novak had already anticipated similar questions and had collaborated a gullible story that he would feed the royals.

“My mother taught us everything we know. She’s learnt from her father’s village and Master Musashi at a very young age. She’s very skilled, my Lord. You should see her sword combat, she’s much better than any of her children.”

The Emperor having seen both Carter and Isla in action highly doubted that, but the Princess seemed impressed. “Can she teach me?”

Novak hadn’t expected the princess to make such a request, but it seemed like a blessing in disguise. It was very convenient for their mission, for if Alice were to keep an eye on the Princess, they would have clear shot to carry out the remaining six murders. Come to think of it, they were planning out tonight itself. The sooner the better.

“Yes, she can. I will personally ride to our farm to fetch her right away.”

Princess Freya watched the retreating back of the new right-hand man with unconcealed wariness and suspicion. “I don’t trust him,” she announced, biting into her raw leeks.

“He’s a good lad,” the Emperor answered with a shrug, putting his daughter’s misgiving to the fact that she’d lost against the man in front of the whole court.

“Maybe it’s just me but I felt that he was taking personal pleasure in the fight yesterday.” She frowned. “And how come you weren’t offended by the defeat?”

Her father was usually so hellbent on winning that if anyone had dared defeat him in training battles in the Blanca castle, he'd executed them right away without mercy.

“Freya, I can hardly kill my right-hand man. He’s the one who’s going to report to me after I’m gone from here,” he replied impatiently. “Besides, that’s what warriors do. They enjoyed a healthy fight.”

“I don’t mean it in that way. I mean I’ve the impression that he has a hidden agenda against you. It’s all a game to him – a game that he’s enjoying. I’m surprised that you can’t see through him.”

“Freya, he’s just a peasant. What do you think he can do against me? Besides, his father has proven his loyalty to the Kingdom by sacrificing his four children in my service. What reason would I have to doubt him?”

“What if they have another motive for being here?”

The Emperor scoffed, touching the sword at his side with confidence. There was no way to defeat him – he’d made sure to have an exclusive deal with the witch. From the unique salvation clause, even if someone stabbed him with the Dà Vita, they would never be able to steal the lives he’d acquired.

“Let them try,” the Emperor said with a steely note. “I will enjoy beheading every one of them with my sword.”

It had taken him all his resolve not to kill Sommerville yesterday, but the sword was restless and unsatisfied. Just like his soul. It’s been years since his last murder, and Salvatore felt that another killing might make him relapse.

However, that was not something he wished to address for now, simply because it would be admitting that he had a weakness – something he couldn’t control. That treacherous witch had tricked him by not mentioning that killing would ultimately become an addiction. Was that why she’d predicted nine realms in his destiny? He’d discarded her predictions as inconsequential at that time – now he wasn’t so sure.

Not wanting to argue further on the insignificant subject, he left the table leaving behind an offended princess. For the second time, Freya watched the back of another man moving far from him, resentment filled inside her.

It would be wonderful if her father could attribute her to some credit sometimes instead of treating her like some brainless i***t.

Call it some sixth sense or complete insanity on her behalf, she literally felt that something was off with that Sommerville family. It was just something she couldn’t quite put her hands on yet.

One of the reasons why she’d summoned Alice Sommerville to the castle was to get close enough to the woman to ask her personal questions and corroborate the same version with the right-hand man. If it were a fake story, they would surely stumble at some point in time.

Hours later, she was reading the Codex Sinaiticus in the garden when Alice Sommerville was announced. With a negligent flick of her finger, the woman appeared in front on her, and Freya felt her hunch magnified when faced with Alice. Her first thought was that she looked nothing like a peasant, her aristocratic aquiline nose the proof of a fine breed, her glorious fiery red mane hidden behind a head scarf undeniable.

“Your Majesty,” she curtsied with perfect grace, unlike those gauche gestures that Freya got from her maids, which strengthened her suspicions.

“Alice Sommerville. Your son’s all praise about your combat skills. I presume he’s told you the purpose of your visit to the castle?”

“Yes, your Highness. It’s an honor to train you.”

“Where are you from, Alice?”

The woman’s face was impassible, her features unruffled as she responded to the unguarded question without flinching. “I am from Ortonville, milady.”

Freya’s eyes arched her eyebrows in surprise at the response. Ortonville was a small village to the far West of the main castle of the ninth realm, and it was known to inhabit the fiercest loyals of her father’s.

“Are you the lord’s daughter?” Freya asked, knowing that Lord William of Ortonville had a much younger offspring, and deliberately trying to trap the woman. “You have the look of an aristocrat.”

The woman seemed inordinately pleased by the comment, taking it as a compliment. “Thank you, your Highness. It’s my greatest pleasure to hear such a nice compliment from you. Unfortunately, I am no lord’s daughter. I was brought up in the castle though. My mother was a maid in the Ortonville castle, and I learned my sword skills from the knights who were training in the yard.”

“Did they allow you to train?” Freya was interested now that she had determined that the woman was genuine.

“Me being a girl, you mean?” Alice grinned impishly. “I disguised as a boy. Nobody realized my treachery until I became of age, and started to grow br…ahem curves,” she corrected her crass word in the nick of time, belatedly realizing her interlocutor’s elevated hierarchy.

Princess Freya snorted, her guard slipping as she felt sure that there was no way the woman in front of her was a high breed. No lady would talk in such a gross manner, at least not in front of royalty.

“What happened when they found out?”

Alice beamed; her pretty features emphasized with the dimples which hollowed in her cheeks. “It was too late by then. I was already a master at sword handling, and the knights put me to task for the young boys’ trainings. Might as well not waste a good warrior.”

Princess Freya inclined her head with approval. “That’s so heroic,” she felt thrilled to learn that a woman was so skilled that she managed to shine among men.

“Thank you, your Highness. I figured I should teach my children about basic self-defense as well.” She made a grimace. “I got carried away, and ended up teaching them everything I knew,” she laughed ruefully. “But I had no idea that my first-born would be so impertinent as to challenge the Emperor himself.”

Dark shadows settled on the face of the gentle woman.  

“I apologize on his behalf, your Royal Highness. It is your goodness that you acknowledge my boy’s skills and honor me with such a privilege. He took a severe beating from me last night,” the woman delivered with utmost humility, and Freya visibly relaxed.

So, that arrogance was a trait of Carter Sommerville only. His mother seemed to be completely different from the insolent who had deigned challenged them both so openly. Her interest was piqued despite herself. There was no denying that Carter Sommerville was a handsome looking man, exceeding the most gorgeous specimens she’d ever witnessed in the court of Blanca. What bothered her was the frequent disdain his eyes held in her regard, like he knew something she wasn’t aware of.

Tempted to ask about him, she pursed her lips to stop herself. It wasn’t worthy of a princess to inquire about a peasant. It would be considered a blasphemy in the history of monarchy rule.

“It was just a friendly match,” she dismissed, pleased that the woman had taken it upon herself to apologize on her son’s behalf. “Shall we start our training then?” Freya asked without hesitation.

Alice smiled brightly, hiding her victory from the princess who had completely bought her story. After Novak had related the happenings last night, Alice had known that they would be under supervision, for no ordinary man would deign challenge the Emperor so openly and win against him altogether.

Consequently, she had been prepped her four children with the same fake story, knowing that there was bound to be some subtle inquiries along the way. It had been part of the sham that she was her children’s tutor with the sword skills. What she hadn’t expected was the princess to call over for her expertise.

It was an opportunity, Carter had explained. They could use someone on their side at the castle, so Alice had agreed without blinking an eye.

However, that was a chance she was not missing. It gave rise to two opportunities – tail the princess so that the other would carry on with their missions. And stop the Emperor from opening a harem in the ninth realm. When Isla had mentioned that the guards had been whispering among themselves about such possibility, she’d been revolted by the mere idea.

“Of course, milady,” she answered instead to the princess with a bow to hide the gleam of purpose in her eyes. “Should we start right away?”

They did. They trained for long hours in the afternoon, with Alice relentlessly pushing the princess way beyond her limits and stopped only when the aristocratic girl could bear no more.

“My apologies, my Lady. I tend to go overboard with my training. The problem is that Carter told me you’re spending only one week here, so I’m trying my best to at least cover the basics.”

Exhausted, the princess threw a surprised look in her direction, as though she hadn’t contemplated such a thing. “You’re right. One week isn’t enough for me to learn all that you know. I’ll see what I can do about it,” she replied crisply, as though merely talking was a task.

Alice bowed again with deepest humility, smiling as she’d achieved her objectives. The princess was thinking of extending her visit on the ninth realm to complete her training, which would give them ample time to complete the six remaining murders. Secondly, the princess was so knackered that tonight she will sleep like a log, allowing Cart and the others to carry out their mission.

Truly enough, upon nightfall, the castle was silent at the wee hours on the night, and four warriors crept around the palace to make sure that everyone who had drank the laudanum were fast asleep.

Guards bodies were strewn on the floor, and they had to tread carefully so as not to trample over them. One of them moved, and they froze in complete unison, waiting with suspense that he would wake up, but he thankfully stumbled back into oblivion.

Their breaths of relief were weirdly synched, coming out in a chorus as they tiptoed around with even lighter steps.

However, they stopped right in their tracks when they entered the chambers, to find that the Emperor was not alone but stone naked with a woman in his bed. That was unexpected. Sending a look of alarm to Novak, Connor and Cameron retreated two steps back to flee.

Putting a hand to halt their escape, Novak removed the laudanum bottle from their accessories bag, and signaled Isla for a piece of cloth. She absent-mindedly handed her a handkerchief, eyes fixed on the sleeping form with extreme diligence.

Without missing a beat, Novak dumped some of the lotion on the cloth, and advanced to the bed with stealthy steps. On his way, he glanced at the Emperor’s goblet to note with relief that the latter had drank the mixed beverage. Salvatore would be out till morning.

With careful precision, he accosted the cloth to the woman’s mouth, and pressed against her mouth holding her head still while she was struggling. After a few moments, the body went limp, and Novak gave a thumbs-up signal to the others.

As an unspoken rule, they limited the speech during the killing, each one focusing on their job with rapid and precise movements. The moment was too tensed for any of them to be able to speak. That time, it took a little bit or organization as Connor and Cameron removed the woman from the bed, before Novak advanced towards Salvatore’s sleeping form.

Removing the sword from the scabbard, Novak approached and held his hand high above Salvatore’s sleeping form before descending the weapon down on the body with full force. Stabbing him felt therapeutic now, especially after Novak realized that the Emperor was not dying by the wounds, only losing precious lives.

Some blood oozed on the plastic material they’d placed underneath him, and they proceeded with the cleaning without the need to utter a word. Alice had come up with the idea to avoid changing the bedsheets frequently. Thankfully since black magic was involved, there was not much spilling of blood, as the dark spell would have to work to keep the Emperor alive. The cleaning process had become familiar and automatic. When it was done, Cameron was about to dress the sovereign when Novak stopped him right in time.

With a slight shake of his head, Novak reminded him that the Emperor had been naked before the murder, and if he awoke clothed, there would be suspicion of foul play. Responding with a nod, Cameron acknowledged his mistake, and quickly folded the Emperor’s sleeping dress back in the bag.

Isla whispered to Novak to check his lives before they retreated, which he did.

One thousand and eight, the ruby flashed.

It was working. According to Isla’s calculations, Novak recalled that the monarch was supposed to have precisely twenty-four thousand lives remaining, and if the previous countdown hadn’t triggered anything in the Emperor, the round figure surely would. It was easy to confuse between two random figures. Going forward now, any number of lives that would remain would be suspicious since it would be consequently less than the original number.

That was one of the reasons why they had to move fast. They were planning one murder each night, and even if Alice failed to persuade the princess or the Emperor to stay back, the ninth murder – supposedly the last murder, would take place one night before his departure for the main realm.

Things were now starting to become concluding and was taking a more serious note. They were in greater danger of being exposed, but that wouldn’t stop them. Nothing aside of revenge would stop their quest.

Salvatore had to pay for his crimes by death penalty. Five more murders to go.