Valkyrie's Shadow

The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 5, Chapter 17

The Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Part III: Act 5, Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“What the hell happened here?” Remedios asked.

“Don’t ask,” Gustav answered.

Hands on her hips, Remedios scanned the cordon of royal guardsmen set up just inside the palace gate. No longer adorned in their ceremonial garb, they bristled with weaponry and their armour gleamed in the torchlight. Every Paladin not on patrol was similarly present.

“The Nobles walked,” Gustav said.

“I didn’t ask,” Remedios replied.

The Grandmaster gave her a reproachful look.

“His Divine Grace proposed that new taxes be levied to restore royal power,” he said. “Of course, the Nobles didn’t like that. Duke Debonei walked out of the court mid-session, and the Nobles followed.”

“What about the Temples?”

“The Temples are calling for a return to civil discourse, but I doubt the new taxes will sit well with them as proposed. It’s the people who will end up shouldering the burden, after all. For the time being, Duke Debonei’s being held in a stateroom while we wait for heads to cool off. Salazar is entreating His Divine Grace to rethink his position.”

“I bet whoever sunk the trade fleet is laughing at us right now,” Remedios said.

A grimace crossed Gustav’s face.

“This is the last thing we need, I agree,” he said. “But it can’t be helped, considering how things played out during the court session today. How are things out in the city, by the way?”

“The same as usual. Mostly. Baraja’s ‘sickness’ is flaring up again.”

“…sickness?” Gustav furrowed his brow, “Ah. That. I can’t imagine the Nobles approving of her activities.”

“They didn’t,” Remedios replied. “I had to stop them from locking her up for offending their delicate sensibilities.”

“Even after everything that’s happened, that girl never learned to leave well enough alone. That isn’t a headache we can deal with right now, though.”

“What’s the plan, Captain?”

“Our duty here is to keep the peace until this latest round of politicking has settled down,” Gustav told her. “Things might be a bit tense with so many armsmen around the city. A show of force should be enough of a deterrent against any of the more hotheaded young scions we have running around.”

“Uh-huh. Well, since we’re making a show of it, I suppose I’ll go and pick up my sword.”

It was an approach that was very ‘Gustav’ in nature. For as long as Remedios had known him, he favoured ‘holding things together’ until whatever troubles faced them blew over and the status quo was restored.

Now that she was aware of what was going on, the streets of the Prime Estates seemed eerily empty as she made her way home. From the gate, the manor looked completely dark and no one greeted her upon entering.

“Carla…Carla?”

Huh, she must still be out.

Ever since her family arrived in the capital, Carla had been dragged off on an endless parade of matchmaking sessions. Remedios wasn’t one to talk, but her maid was several years past the point where most people got married. This was especially the case for noblewomen, who could end up moving in with their betrothed as early as the age of nine.

As she looked around, she discovered that Carla wasn’t the only one missing. The manor was silent as the other members of her household staff were busy dealing with their visiting families. Unbothered by her empty home, she made her way up to the solar and went to retrieve Safarlisia from its mount over the hearth. She unsheathed the legendary holy sword, inspecting its ever-honed edge.

“I wonder how you feel about being used as a prop,” she muttered.

“I hope that’s not an actual prop.”

Remedios turned to find Liam leaning against the doorframe of her bedchamber with his arms crossed.

“Do you know what’s going on?” The young thief-taker asked.

“Yeah,” Remedios answered. “Gustav mentioned that the Nobles put on some theatrics today.”

“Theatrics?” Liam uncrossed his arms and slowly made his way towards her with a frown, “What else did he say?”

“Duke Debonei is being held in the Royal Palace so he doesn’t get up to any mischief. The Royal Guard and the Holy Order are making a show of force at the palace gate until things calm down.”

Liam bit his lip, shaking his head vehemently.

“Things aren’t going to ‘calm down’,” he told her. “The Nobles no longer recognise Caspond as their liege lord. Both the conservatives and the royalists.”

“Alright, Gustav didn’t say that. He only said that the Nobles walked.”

“That means the government is broken, doesn’t it?”

“According to him, it’s just posturing. Politics.”

“Well, it’s not,” Liam said.

“Is that something you learned from House Restelo?” Remedios asked.

“Not just House Restelo,” the thief-taker answered. “The Nobles have evacuated their families and households from the Prime Estates and they’re moving their armies into the city. Those armies are coming to free Duke Debonei and tear Caspond off of the throne. This isn’t posturing – this is a coup.”

“You’d think that something didn’t just destroy the trade fleet,” Remedios grumbled.

“What are you going to do?” Liam said.

“Uphold my oath, obviously,” Remedios replied. “I’m a Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, Liam. I uphold the justice of the Holy Kingdom.”

“But what does that mean?”

Remedios turned a bemused look at the young man. It seemed that young people in general had trouble wrapping their heads around the concept of justice.

“It means that I am the shield standing between the people of the Holy Kingdom and those that would bring harm upon them,” she told him. “I may not do a perfect job of it, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

“Even if they don’t care that you do?” Liam asked, “Hate you, even? I saw what happened between you and that nasty masked girl that you saved earlier this evening. You unconditionally put your life on the line for these people every day without fail and they don’t spare you a single decent thought.”

“If you saw what happened back there,” Remedios said, “then you must have also heard what I told her. My answer to you is no different.”

She reached down and replaced the government-issued sword at her hip with Safarlisia. Liam watched her silently, looking entirely dissatisfied with her response.

“I still don’t think you should go,” he said. “Someone like you is wasted on these people.”

“That’s the wrong way to look at it. I stand for these people because I must. For the good of the Holy Kingdom.”

“And if you fall?”

Remedios pursed her lips at Liam’s torn expression. She placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder.

“Then I trust that someone will stand in my place. That’s how fighting evil works, Liam. Dying doesn’t mean that good loses – good letting evil have its way with the world does. The more people refuse to take a stand for righteousness, the easier it is for everyone to fall. That’s exactly what happened to the Holy Kingdom, and I hope that you never forget that.”

She blinked as a tear fell, unbidden, down her right cheek. Somewhere deep in her heart, she knew that the Holy Kingdom was lost. In the end, Jaldabaoth and the Sorcerer King had won.

No! Not on my watch.

“Anyway,” Remedios said. “I should get going before I have to wade through an army to get to the gate. For what it’s worth, I hope you find your sister.”

“…you know, you’re the only one who ever brings up my sister.”

“Is that so? Well, that’s pretty mean. Family’s important.”

Remedios grinned and ruffled Liam’s hair before turning to leave her solar. The streets were still empty, so she made her way unopposed to the palace gate. She looked up at the gatehouse and the nearby walls, frowning at its painful lack of security.

“Where’s the Grandmaster?” She asked the officer at the gate.

“I believe he went to the Grand Cathedral to fetch some Priests, Sister Custodio.”

“Shouldn’t they have sent some Priests long ago?” Remedios frowned.

“There must have been some confusion,” the man said, “or perhaps they’re organising emergency supplies.”

She clicked her tongue in annoyance. It felt like the world itself was being difficult.

“Get that gate secured and put more sentries on the wall,” she told the officer. “We’ve got trouble coming.”

“Trouble, Sister Custodio?”

“That was an order, Sergeant,” Remedios said. “Move!”

Did he just give me a dirty look?

Remedios didn’t bother pursuing the thought, staying only long enough to ensure that the Sergeant started carrying out her orders before going to find Gustav. She found the Grandmaster heading in the opposite direction as she entered the grounds of the Grand Cathedral.

“No Priests?” Remedios asked.

“Not even an Acolyte,” Gustav answered. “The Vicar says that the temple staff spend more time outside of the city than in it, tending to the encampments.”

“You’d think the southerners would’ve brought their own damn Priests.”

“Well, you know as well as I what camp life is like. It can’t be helped.”

She sighed and fell into step beside Gustav. Camps – especially hastily-raised ones like those dominating the city’s surroundings – were a breeding ground for disease and parasites. Fighting their spread would be a war in itself for the Temples.

“Our sneaky little friend says that we’re facing more than just posturing,” Remedios said.

“Yeah? Where did he hear that from?”

“Heard and seen. The Nobles are sending their men to free the Duke and depose Caspond.”

“That can’t be right. It’s too radical a leap for them. Irrational, even. How many men are we talking about?”

“Hmm…about that many?”

Ahead of them, countless torches illuminated the palace grounds around the gate. Remedios eyed the hundreds of men entering the grounds as Gustav jogged up to the Paladins maintaining the defensive line.

“What in the world is going on here?” He demanded, “Where’s the Royal Guard?”

“Erm…it should be as you see it, Captain. As for the Royal Guard, they’re standing over there with their new friends.”

“It looks like that’s where our Priests went, too,” Remedios noted, planting her helmet on her head.

The ten Paladins who remained standing against the amassing Noble forces made for a pitiful-looking defence. Gustav blew out a sigh, eyeing their opposition for a minute before stepping forward.

“Well, if it isn’t the Grandmaster bureaucrat himself.”

Remedios’ eyes locked onto the owner of the voice. It was the same man that had confronted Neia Baraja in the northern quarter. Unlike that time, he was now fully armed and armoured in obviously magical equipment. As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Enrique Bellse and several other notables were standing with him.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here,” Gustav said, “but you are ordered to stand down, by the authority of the Holy King.”

“We no longer recognise the authority of said ‘Holy King’, if you haven’t noticed. In the interest of preserving as much of the Holy Kingdom’s strength as possible against greater threats, we would ask that you order your honourable Paladins to step aside.”

“Against rebels?” Gustav said, “I think not. It’s you gentlemen who are in the wrong here. If you’ve come here to make a point, then you’ve made it. But the court must return to reasonable discourse.”

“There is no reasoning with madmen! But I was trying to be reasonable with you. We are here to unseat Caspond and there is effectively nothing you can do to stop us. If you must insist, however…Lord Lugo, can you deal with Montagnés?”

“With pleasure.”

A tall, sturdily-built young man of dark hair and dusky complexion stepped out to stand across from Gustav. The Grandmaster peered at the youth with a frown.

“I don’t recall ever crossing you,” Gustav said.

“You haven’t,” Lord Lugo replied. “But I’ve heard more than enough about you over the years. Your ilk is a blight upon the Holy Kingdom and you’ve caused one of my friends many tears, besides. It would be my honour to enact a measure of vengeance on her behalf.”

“You made a woman cry?” Remedios frowned at Gustav.

“Not that I can recall…”

“What about you, Custodio?”

Remedios’ gaze went from Gustav to Enrique.

“That should be my question, Bellse,” she said. “Why is one of the Nine Colours turning against the Crown?”

“My allegiance belonged to Queen Calca,” Enrique replied. “As did yours. I know you bear no love for Caspond. There is little reason for you to oppose us.”

“Please reconsider your position, Sister Custodio,” the young man beside Bellse said. “I and so many others here have nothing but the utmost respect for you. Your career serves as a shining example for every young scion. You show us that strength must be subservient to justice and uncompromising in its defence. It would be a grievous, wasteful loss if you were to fall defending a mad king who cares nothing for the Holy Kingdom’s justice.”

Huh. I didn’t know I had fans in the south.

Then again, Carla was from the south, so it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“What’s your name, kid?” Remedios asked.

“Eduardo of House Cohen.”

“Well, Eduardo,” she said, “it’s nice to know you think that way, but, I know what you Nobles have done to the north. The way I see it, standing down would be trading a manageable evil for an unmanageable one.”

“Evil, you say…well, this is most unfortunate.”

Eduardo Cohen turned to address the thousands of men behind him.

“Scour the palace grounds!” His voice boomed into the night sky, “Secure Caspond and Duke Debonei!”

“What about the Paladins, Lord Eduardo?”

“Go around them. It’s not as if they teleport.”

Unlike Demihumans, it seemed that they cared little for personal challenges. To her left, Gustav clicked his tongue.

“Withdraw to the palace! We ca–”

A dark flash bridged the distance between the two lines. Gustav found the point of a longsword planted squarely against his breastplate. He was blown off of his feet and sent tumbling over the grass.

“You’re not going anywhere, Montagnés,” Lord Lugo said.

“Gustav!”

Remedios took two steps towards the Grandmaster before Safarlisia came out to redirect a glowing spearpoint driving in from the side.

“At the risk of sounding repetitive,” Eduardo Cohen said. “You’re not going anywhere, Custodio.”

The lordling took several steps back, falling into a middle guard. While the familiar stance was commonly seen as a neutral one, Eduardo’s grip revealed the true nature of his form.

“You can’t seriously believe that you can beat me in a battle of endurance,” Remedios said.

“On the contrary, Sister Custodio,” Eduardo replied, “I believe it’s entirely possible.”

A solid clunk sounded from Gustav’s direction, his footfalls indicating a desperate defence. To her right, another Paladin was beset by two Knights. Remedios glanced at her immediate surroundings, alert for any interlopers in her duel.

“If you’re looking for Lord Bellse,” Eduardo said, “he didn’t have the heart to fight you. The good Marine Captain is leading the forces scouring the palace, instead.”

“Well, how kind of you to inform me,” Remedios replied.

“You may still stand down at any time you wish, Sister Custodio.”

In response, Remedios raised her heater shield and advanced on the lordling. His spear darted in over her defence, and she raised her shield slightly to send the attack over her shoulder. Then she grimaced as his draw cut scraped against the temple of her helm.

This guy might be fighting defensively, but he doesn’t miss any opportunity to attack.

While doing so sounded simplistic, that wasn’t anywhere close to the truth. Thus far, Eduardo Cohen displayed the hallmarks of an excellent warrior, both physically and mentally.

Remedios rested the flat of Safarlisia atop her shield, picking up her pace as she searched for a gap in her opponent’s defence. Eduardo backed away warily, keeping himself well outside of her measure while stealing her momentum with a zigzagging course. His weapon pounded noisily against Remedios’ shield as he probed for weaknesses in return.

“It’s a shame people like you hid themselves away during the war,” Remedios said.

“We hardly hid,” Eduardo scoffed. “The Demon Emperor sent his forces south as well if you’ve forgotten. We were fighting for the survival of the Holy Kingdom, the same as you.”

The lordling stomped his foot on the ground, launching into a sequence of rapid thrusts. His actions reversed the flow of their exchange, but, as expected, he couldn’t get past her shield. Remedios calmly maintained her defence, watching his every movement.

Eduardo’s assault eventually petered out, and Remedios launched an attack of her own as he was recentering his form.

“?Void Cutter?!”

A blade of air came in the wake of her horizontal slash, opening a gash across the back of the spearman’s leading gauntlet. Another air blade sliced across his thigh, and a third glanced off of his right pauldron. Remedios smirked behind her visor as Eduardo leapt back in alarm.

It was a weakness of polearm users – at least ones who mostly dealt with mundane, unsophisticated realities. They were accustomed to having superior reach and, while they often had countermeasures for opponents who got within their measure, their default assumption was that creating distance meant safety.

Of course, this didn’t stay the case as one ascended further into realms of greater strength. A good warrior knew what the weaknesses of their chosen weapons were and they would develop ways to address them.

“I see you’ve spent some time out of the country,” Remedios said. “Or did House Cohen bring in a master from abroad? Either way, it looks like you’re emulating a southern school…but isn’t it strange to be treating me like a Demihuman?”

Eduardo didn’t deign to respond. He lowered his centre of gravity, leaning forward ever so slightly.

“?Ability Boost?, ?Greater Ability Boost?,?Piercing Strikes?…”

Looks like he’s getting serious…

Remedios raised her guard, readying Safarlisia for a counter. His charge was so quick that he briefly vanished from Remedios’ sight.

“?Sea Lord’s Harpoon?!”

She gasped as the attack punched through her shield and into her bracer, coming out the opposite side of her wrist to draw a bloody line across the steel of her plackart. Then, she cried out in pain as the spearhead – which had grown wicked barbs – was torn out of her arm, taking her shield with it.

“?Heavy Recover?!”

Remedios healed her mangled arm while Eduardo dislodged his weapon and tossed her shield into the distance.

“It vexes me to say so,” he said, “but I must thank Caspond for appointing Montagnés to lead the Holy Order. I don’t think that attack would have gotten through if you had been wearing the Grandmaster’s regalia. At the same time, it doesn’t seem to have helped Montagnés much.”

To her left, it looked like the duel between Lord Lugo and Gustav had concluded. The Grandmaster lay unmoving on the ground, a square of pale cloth draped over his face. For his part, Lord Lugo looked completely unscathed and was issuing orders to the columns still making their way onto the palace grounds.

“Once again, Sister Custodio,” Eduardo said, “please stand down. By now, our forces will have reached Caspond and Duke Debonei. You have failed to achieve your objective and Caspond’s cause is a hopeless one.”

“Do you think you can be forgiven for what you’ve done?” Remedios spat.

“It is not our place to seek forgiveness,” Eduardo told her. “We Nobles do what must be done for the good of the land and its people. The people may hate us for it if they wish, but they do not know what lies out in the world beyond. They refuse to open their eyes, content that their farms and villages will be as they always have.

“Still, the Demon Emperor’s invasion and the existence of the Sorcerer King should be enough of a wake-up call, don’t you think? These are not the same sort of existences as the Dragon Lords, who remain aloof of the affairs of mortals so long as certain esoteric boundaries remain unviolated. Roble can never be what it once was if it is to survive in the face of these new threats, no matter how fond we are of the past.”

Remedios gripped the hilt of Safarlisia with both hands, brandishing its glowing blade at her opponent.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she told him. “Your actions have been turning Roble into a soulless husk, not saving it! If you insist on tearing down the Holy Kingdom to give rise to this evil monstrosity, then you’ll have to do it over my dead body!”

“Very well, Sister Custodio,” Eduardo said. “Have it your way.”

She surged forward, closing the distance between them within a heartbeat. Her opponent sidestepped her trajectory, using his polearm to keep her from correcting her course. Rather than go along with his ploy, she let go of Safarlisia with her left hand to grasp the offending spear behind its head. A strong yank brought them together and she slammed the pommel of her sword squarely onto the nobleman’s nose guard.

Eduardo’s head snapped back, but, as with so many warriors, he refused to release his weapon. Remedios allowed the recoil from her pommel strike to bring Safarlisia high.

“?Strong Strike?!”

Her slash opened the young nobleman’s shoulder, revealing the sight of cloven bone through his torn flesh. His enchanted armour closed over the damage as soon as she withdrew her blade. Eduardo was still stunned by her combination, so she raised Safarlisia one last time for her finishing blow.

She sent a mental command to the holy sword, and its blade flared with divine radiance. With a wordless cry, she brought her Holy Strike down on Eduardo’s head. His sturdy helm checked the advance of the blade itself, but the wave of light it brought with it passed right through the metal, flaring through the gaps in his armour as it travelled through his body on its way to the ground.

Remedios shoved her wounded opponent away with a booted foot, sending him sprawling onto the grass. Her eyes widened as he braced his spear against the ground and pushed himself to his feet with his uninjured arm.

He should be dead!

Yet, he was clearly not. In fact, his only sign of injury was his left arm dangling limply at his side, dripping blood.

Remedios stared down at Safarlisia, as if the legendary blade had betrayed her. How could it be? The Nobles had done so much to tear down the cultural fabric of the Holy Kingdom, yet the attack meant to smite all forms of evil hadn’t done any damage at all.

“?Middle Cure Wounds?!”

The telltale glow of healing magic washed over Eduardo. Remedios’ cheek twitched as she sent a glare in Vicar Salazar’s direction. The Vicar didn’t miss her look. He retreated behind the men spectating nearby with an undignified squeal.

“Get back here, you Filth Eater!” Remedios stormed after him.

“?Challenging Shout?!”

Remedios turned ninety degrees and chopped down on Eduardo with her sword. The nobleman was already prepared for the attack, however, deflecting it neatly to the side.

Dammit, this nonsense again…

She wove her blade in wide arcs, driving the spearman back. If she couldn’t get his healer, she could at least try to get him out of range.

“Don’t Nobles have a thing about honour and duels?” She asked, “That wasn’t very chivalrous.”

“You clearly have no understanding of chivalry if you’re asking,” Eduardo answered. “I won’t fault you for that, however. Your position aside, you are a little more than a commoner with great personal strength, after all.”

A flick of her wrist found the slit of Eduardo’s visor. He reacted quickly enough to avoid a fatal wound, but she still blinded his left eye.

“?Middle Cure Wounds?!”

“?Middle Cure Wounds?!”

Seriously?

Remedios deflected three jabs as she took an inventory of her surroundings. The spectators had followed their fight to the steps of the Royal Palace and the Priests healing Eduardo were mixed in with them. Eduardo wouldn’t allow her to go after them, so all there was to do was run them out of mana.

She took in a deep breath, releasing it in a long sigh.

“I hope you like pain, kid,” she said.

Eduardo’s only response was to raise his spear, a feverish gleam in his bloodied eye.

You idiot. Why did you have to be so stubborn?

Eduardo Cohen sighed as he stood over the fallen form of Remedios Custodio. Even in death, she was so beautiful that he was tempted to cup her pale cheek.

In the end, their fight had emptied the mana of a dozen Priests and expended two wands of Middle Cure Wounds with fifty charges each. It wasn’t a glamorous battle at all; certainly not one befitting one of her heroic stature. They had simply fought and fought and fought until, exhausted in both mind and body, the personification of the Holy Kingdom’s justice expired on the cold, stone steps of the palace. She had even managed to interpose her corpse between Eduardo and the doors in doing so.

No pride filled Eduardo’s heart in the wake of his accomplishment – only a disturbing sense of unease. All she had to do was step aside while they removed the insane man acting as the Holy King. She could have returned to her post as Grandmaster of the Holy Order and served long and honourably under a proper government that would see Roble vaulted into unprecedented heights of prosperity.

Yet, she had clung to her convictions to the bitter end. This left Eduardo with a single, haunting question: Why?

“Lord Eduardo,” a company Captain emerged from the palace doors, “Lord Bellse is calling for you.”

“It’s about damn time,” Eduardo said. “I take it we finally have Caspond and Duke Debonei?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the Captain replied. “There were…complications.”

Eduardo gestured for the officer to lead the way. He offered the last of the Custodios a salute for her resolve before giving the fallen Paladin a wide berth as he made his way up the stairs and into the Royal Palace.

The Captain brought him straight to the royal apartments, where a line of armsmen was barring the corridor. Enrique Bellse stood a few metres beyond them, arms crossed over his barrel chest. His troubled eyes went to Eduardo as he squeezed his way through the cordon.

“Custodio?”

Eduardo shook his head.

“I tried. She wouldn’t see reason, no matter how I presented our case.”

“Dammit. She was always too stubborn for her own good. As annoying as she could be, the last thing we needed to do was uproot the good with the bad.”

“I don’t disagree,” Eduardo said, “but what’s done is done. I heard something about ‘complications’…”

The Commander of the Royal Marines turned with a jerk of his head.

“This way.”

They made their way deeper into the royal apartments and stopped at the main dining room. Just inside the double doors, Duke Debonei lay face-first on the carpet. A long trail of dark stains led from his body to the dining room table, where Caspond lay staring lifelessly at the ceiling on the floor. Eduardo knelt with a frown, staring at the golden fork buried in the man’s chest.

“We found them like this,” Lord Bellse said.

“I would hope so,” Eduardo snorted. “I know of no armsmen or soldiers proficient in utensils. How long ago did this happen?”

“It can’t have been long before we arrived. The bodies were still warm when we got here. Is this going to be a problem?”

Is it?

Caspond didn’t matter, but Duke Debonei was a concern. While the Duke’s passing meant that the progressive camp had lost its greatest opponent, the conservatives would be sure to voice their suspicions about his death.

“Who discovered this, exactly?” Eduardo asked.

“The Royal Marines and the Royal Guard,” Lord Bellse answered. “It was a race, though. People from all sides came and saw this within a few minutes of us.”

“Good,” Eduardo nodded. “Then we have plenty of witnesses to confirm we didn’t do anything. Has word begun to spread?”

“Not yet. Everyone knows how delicate this operation was.”

“Then inform the houses encamped around Hoburns first. Our work is done here – managing the outcomes is theirs.”

Eduardo rose to his feet, looking down at the man who briefly reigned as the Holy King. A strange thought occurred to him.

“Lord Bellse.”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel anything looking at Caspond?”

“Nothing at all. Strange, now that you mention it.”

Even Calca’s staunchest opponents in the court keenly felt the Holy Queen’s loss. Many of the Holy Kingdom’s citizens still did. Caspond, on the other hand…

“This man,” Eduardo said. “He was no true King.”