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This is the prologue from The Bear Castle! First I thought about dividing it to three parts but ended up not doing that as it wasn’t THAT long after all.
Tagging @madmooninc and @teacup-universes! If you want to be tagged too, or don’t want to be tagged on the future, inform me! I’ll be very happy to tag others too :)
On the first autumn morning of frost of the year 495 begun the Fall of cor Mantgamias, who had ruled Cabalusia for a millennia. On that morning on top of an ages old grass covered barrow stood Julius cor Mantgamia before a mossy, yet so terrifyingly vivid, stone bear. Julius looked to the quartz eyes of the three meters tall bear, and the bear looked back. Around them on the field mist crept from the river with cautious steps. It evaded the barrow, perhaps wary of the bear guarding it. Flowers of frost coated the barrow in white veil like King’s star-flowers every spring. The first light of the sun had already brightened the firmament forged from ice. Rotten leaves and overripe berries smelled sweet. The world was silently dying so it could born again next spring.
This time Julius had no time to enjoy the autumn landscape. Instead more pressing things needed his attention. The letter he clenched in his only hand told about the matter that was serious by nature. He had come to the graves of his forefathers and -mothers, where his own father laid too, to seek answers.
“What would you do, father?” he asked aloud looking at the bear statue, that stood quietly before him. But he knew the answer already. Father always knew what to do. He had been so sure about what he believed in and never wavered, even when it meant dirtying his hands. Julius didn’t agree with father about many things but he respected his ability to make calculative and effective decisions. That was what he needed; help to make the right decision in a situation where only were wrong options.
Besides the respect Julius felt very little towards his father. Long after father’s death, Julius had both hated and loved him, but after years had passed he had learned to take a step back and respect him as a leader. It didn’t mean he would forget the funeral of his older brother and the look father gave as their eyes met. Then he knew he should have been the one in the coffin, not Faerathos. But he did understand why father didn’t see him fit to be the heir. He was soft and gentle, when Faerathos had been strong and fierce, just like father. Standing one’s ground and making hard decisions were most important features of a leader if asked from father. Sometimes, when the situation was exceptionally challenging, Julius still found himself failing in the latter.
Now the situation was exceptionally challenging. He knew what father would have done, but he lacked the determination. He was reluctant to start a civil war. And father would have done it for different reasons, not for his children and grandchildren. No, he would have started the war out of spite, to show he was the winner. It was the winning move. The question was, would he let his people die for his family? Cabalusians were not happy with Civitas or the Empress, but it didn’t mean they wanted to die for it. The truth was that he didn’t want to dirty his hands this way, but he neither wanted to watch by when his siblings died, not again. He saw father’s disgusted and disappointed eyes, as he shook his head and said: “If you cannot do the right decision, it is your clan, who will pay, and in your hands is their blood.”
One thing was sure, no one won battles by standing on a barrow. Julius had calmed down and it was time for action now. He made final look to the eyes of the bear and couldn’t help but feel the childhood fear tingling in his back. It was easy to imagine father’s soul rest in this ages old symbol of cor Mantgamia. Julius himself didn’t feel so comfortable carrying his family crest. After tearing his gaze from the protector of the barrow he turned to the stony castle, rising on a small island in the middle of a broad river. Most notable thing was almost 50 meters long pitch-black tower rising on the highest top of the island. The castle was old in tired, but it still managed to stand tall after long centuries. Cor Mantgamias weren’t the first ones to build the castle. The Black Tower was a reminder of the times when Ahinians had the control of these lands.
The morning was still young, but the courtyard was already full of bustle when Julius came in from the southern gate. “Your grace”, hailed the gate guards and bowed. Julius nodded back and went briskly past. Without stopping he entered the palace, climbed up granite stairs and stopped before the door of his wife’s chamber. He knocked, but gained no answer, then knocked again. This time there was sound of moving and then a “Step in”. Julius obeyed. In the chamber his wife had got up to sit on her bed. Like other rooms in the palace, the room had high sealing and it would have been well lit by long windows, if the curtains were open. The room was almost ascetic despite the richly embroiled wall papers and textiles.
Duchess Rigantona was still very handsome woman in her forties, although that was not the reason why their marriage was quite happy. Actually it was a loveless marriage, but they still respected each other and they made a very good team to tackle the political game of the Empire. Rigantona was much like his father. She was also cool and rational, even insensitive, but unlike the late duke, she despised traditions and stiffness. That was the reason why Julius so trusted her advice.
“News, I suppose?” she asked cutting the chitchat.
He nodded and gave her the letter. “Caerelus send this from Civitas. It reached me only few moments ago. The situation seems just as dire as you predicted.” He sat down on a chair next to the bed. Rigantona’s eyes jumped from line to line in a quick pace. A wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows to indicate that she was processing information intensely. The silence continued for few minutes until she had read the letter multiple times.
“As I thought, Caerelus must be imprisoned at this point. But this letter leads us to believe that he managed to find out something before that…” Her eyes looked somewhere through Julius. Suddenly they fixated into his. “By imprisoning your brother the Empress has revealed her intentions. It was always to execute your sister and her son, but now the Empress has to include your brother too into the execution. They will surely not get a fair trial. If she really did murder Emperor Maximus, she will do anything to keep it hidden. But she knows she has left us no options and she has to deal with all of us. In the worst case scenario her troops are already in their way.”
Rigantona said out loud what Julius had been afraid to hear. It was something he didn’t want to believe, but he had to, for the sake of every one. “Surely she hasn’t started the mobilization, we would have heard of it. We have still time to prepare.”
“If I was the empress, I would send a small – let’s say a few dozen men strong – elite troop ahead. Assassins. They would get here unnoticed before we could assemble our troops. I would bid them to sneak inside the castle walls in secret where they could strike deadly yet swiftly after the night has fallen. They would eliminate everyone inside, end your family line and cut the command. And then I would send my troops to secure the area. It should be easy after command center had fallen.” Rigantona didn’t waver. A cold stir fell down Julius’ spine when he looked into the emotionless eyes of his wife.
“I am certainly glad that you’re not the empress”, he said and let out a nervous laugh. “I assume that your answer to the situation is that we strike fast before they do, claim notable areas and trade them for my imprisoned family?”
“No, Julius, -” There was serious look in her eyes as she shook her head. “- you have to understand one thing. They are lost to us. Even if you won battles and the Empress kept them alive for a while for negotiations, she simple cannot leave them alive. For her it is about life and death. She needs to get the scapegoats of the Maximus’ murder dead and buried. I will make this crystal clear for you: Nothing will save Caerelus, Cassia or Amatus. They are as good as death. The question is will we survive.”
Julius grasped the stump of his hand. It always itched when he tried to clench his non-existing hand into a fist. She was right of course. For last weeks he hadn’t been able to face the possibility that his only remaining sister and her son could die. And now his little brother’s life was also on the line. It was still hard to face the reality, but necessary for survival. “Then what do you suggest?” He raised his beaten look into his wife. Maybe she saw his sorrow, as there were remains of rare empathy in her eyes.
“Send the children to Loches in care of my brother, suggest to your brother to do the same. I will send an express letter in advance. In that I will urge him to prepare a ship for the children, so they can be sent to South-Dirahin. We have to prepare for the worst. The Empress knows she has driven as into a corner. She will say our uprising is treason. We will be the enemy of the Empire. And she will use as justification for massacring us. We are running against time. Our only chance is to prepare in time for her attack. If we are too slow she has our bodies and evidence of our treason. The problem is, she has time on her side. Gods know how many days she’s had time for preparing. And for that we need something else. An ally. The only possibility is the North.”
Julius narrowed his eyes. “Dir’ahin?”
She nodded. “She will not dare to suspect that we would make such an alliance. And they are the bitterest enemies of the Empire, and for them it would be perfect if Cabalusia would fall into chaos. It doesn’t matter how we feel about the Ahinians or how long we have waged war against them, if we want to survive this.”
There was a brief silent when he bit his nails. “I suppose we should be quick about it?”
“Absolutely. There is no time to waste. It is all or nothing.”
He nodded fallen in thoughts. Rigantona may have been right about alliance with Ahinians, but there was the other thing to consider; Cabalusians had fought with Ahinians the whole Fourth Age and longer, even before the reign of cor Mantgamias. His clan, soldiers and the whole people would be enraged of even the thought and he needed their support more than ever. Rigantona wouldn’t understand. For her absurdity and emotionality of humans were unfamiliar and strange.
“Rigantona, I want you to make contact with Ahinians, in secret. They trust women more than men and no Cabalusian – no one – will trust them”, Julius explained carefully. Her annoyance grew immediately. She was about to demand, why would he say that people wouldn’t take the most rational way out. “Truth to be told, I do not trust them either, not a bit. But I trust your judgement. You will go to Loches with children and head to the North. There you can establish negotiations with them”, he said before she could speak her mind and then stood up. “You should get to arranging your departure. I’ll wake the others and inform them. We have to start mobilization as soon as possible. Let’s hope the hour is not too late.”
In the gracefully paneled study sat Julius. He leaned against the armchair, upholstered with velvet, with the stump of his hand and slowly smoked his pipe. His eyes rested in the coat of arms of cor Mantgamias, hanging on the wall behind a worktable; black standing bear against cobalt blue field. Two shiny arming swords from the Third Age crossed each other behind the coat of arms. “Fight with honor, shield with strength” was written in the arms with ancient Algonian. Is this honor? Do I have the strength to defend?
A knock on the door interrupted Julius’ thoughts. “Come in”, he said.
A young male servant stepped in and bowed deeply. “Your grace, lord Ignatus cor Mantgamia, count Geroen cor Mantgamia, sir Caiside cor Mantgamia, sir Quirinus cor Mantgamia and sir Sparrowhawk.” The servant bowed again and stepped aside. Julius’ brother, uncle and cousins and lastly Marcus stepped in. Marcus seemed small in the side of cor Mantgamias, who were known for their length.
“Have you gained new information? Is that why you summoned us?” Geroen, Julius’ uncle, asked with his bass voice. All of them had weary and worried expressions, only exception being Caiside, who was particularly bad at waking up in the mornings, and seemed only sleepy.
Julius nodded and waved in direction of table where the letter was laying. Geroe stepped next to table, his sons following, and took the letter. “Read it out loud, please”, Julius said. Geroe took a magnifier from his pocket even though he already had classes on. An eye sickness had left him half blind. He read slowly while his younger son, Quirinus, stirred restlessly next to him.
“Father, allow me”, he said at last and picked the letter without waiting for respond. Marcus stayed next to the door, while Ignatus stepped closer. “Dear brother, I have to write shortly this time. An arrest warrant has been made for me and I’m afraid the forces are already coming for me. I tried to unveil the truth in the limits of the law and show them that they have made a terrible mistake in respect to our sister, but I understand now. It was not a mistake, for it was all according to her plan. I found about terrible truth behind all this, but I cannot tell more in the letter. There is no justice here. It seems like nothing can keep them from executing me too. Maybe I was too naïve. Forgive me. Please ask forgiveness from Ignatus and mother for me. I have to send the letter before it’s too late. Farewell.”
Deep silence followed. It took a while for the words to truly sink. Suddenly it all seemed more real for Julius after hearing someone else read the letter. Breathing grew heavy. For a moment his eyes met with Marcus. The only working hawk-eye studied Julius and a concerned wrinkle appeared in his forehead. Julius turned from the intensive gaze to observe others. Furrows of Geroe’s face deepened; disbelief and rage twisted Quirinus’ expressions; sleep was gone from Caiside’s eyes, replaced by shock; Ignatus seemed emotionless, but his eyes were burning. They all had tried to persuade Caerelus to return to Cabalusia, but he had been unwavering in his conviction. He insisted always doing things the right and honorable way. How could someone destroy something so pure?
Quirinus was first to break the silence. “We cannot let them do what they want! We are the cor Mantgamias! Empress or not, there are rules one cannot break!” Others glanced at Julius, who stayed quiet.
“Quirinus is right, this is unacceptable”, Ignatus said. “Our sister, our brother. And Amatus. He is the rightful heir. We should have gathered our troops and demanded Amatus and Cassia’s liberation a long time ago.”
Julius shook his head. “You know full well that it would have caused a civil war. That is not something we can start with light reasons.”
Ignatus’ expression tightened. They glared into each other’s eyes, both unwavering and defiant. “Are you saying that our sister and her son’s execution is not heavy reason?”
“Yes”, Julius said. “It is to our people, to every Cabalusian bystander, who would be caught in the war. They have Angusian roots and spouses. They do not care, if one heir is switched to another. It won’t change their life even if they hated Angusia for it, but a civil war will change everything for them. They are our people, Ignatus.”
“So we let the Emeretiuses do what they want? And what then, when they come to kill us? Your children?”
Geroen stepped between them. “This is not time to quarrel. We have to make decisions. I’m sure we can all agree, that the situation is inflammable. The Empress will not step back – that is a fact.” It was hard to resist his tranquil soft voice.
Julius nodded. “We have come to the point, where war is inevitable.” He took the time to look every one of them in the eyes. Then he took a moment of break, placed his pipe on the side table and stood up. “The Empress doesn’t want a civil war here, because Cabalusia is important for the logistics of the Ahinian war. She wants this to stop before it really begins so she will strike swiftly and precisely. Like Ignatus said, she will come for us to disable the command center. Our only hope is separation from the Empire.”
Everyone looked at each other, searching for answers. It was easy to see what they were thinking. A small glimmer of hope awakened. Was it possible? For the first time after the Empire was formed, for the first time in five hundred years, Cabalusia would become independent again? It was almost too unreal to think, and Julius wouldn’t let them. “Our defenses are down. At the moment we have only my regular house guard, twenty men standing at watch. It won’t be enough if the Empress launches a big assassination attack. That could happen one of these days. We have to gather troops as fast as possible to shield us or the battle is lost. I will need you all to write to your retainers and soldiers, and ask them to take up their arms. Letters won’t be enough. You Iganatus, must leave to gather as much forces as you can. They will answer when a cor Mantgamia is putting trust on them.” He continued telling them about the plan to get the children and wives away. They thought about sending their mother away too, but they were sure she wouldn’t have any of that. He didn’t mention about Ahinians. Neither did he stress that Cassia, Caerelus and Amatus was already lost to them. They needed hope.
After others had left to make hasty letters, Marcus lingered behind. “Call all my house guards to the castle”, Julius said to him. “Tell them it is highest emergency level. Tell them to get ready for an attack, especially at night. If someone refuses to fight against the Empire, they are to be imprisoned.”
“Sure.” Marcus nodded. His amber eye pieced through Julius. For a moment he studied his expressions. “They can’t be saved, can they? She’d never let them go. The Empress I mean.”
Julius drew a deep breath. Heavy burden hanged on his shoulders. “We have lost them.” It hurt to admit that. “There are not much of us siblings left anymore. First went Faerathos, then Clementia and now this…” They both lowered their eyes on the ground. The silence lasted for many long seconds. Without looking at each other, they were thinking about the same thing; the day when young beautiful Clementia died and they almost killed each other. “Let us go, we have a lot to do and little time”, Julius broke the silence.
How long had it been? The last time Rigantona had seen her brother? Maybe five years. Longer. Fiolew hadn’t yet been born and Valeri was very small. She did remember what her brother looked like; a cheerful man, with golden brown curls, always messy. Still she couldn’t form a picture of him on her head. It had been too long. Not that she missed home, a port city that smelled like ocean, nor was she so sentimental that she would have missed her family. It was only the conscience that bothered her, for she knew that others, especially her brother, were just that sentimental. In spite of all, she waited to see again her old home city, its narrow winding streets and the shore, where lingered the odor of fishes.
Carriages rattled against the cobblestone, when they crossed Fael River along the southern bridge. Children and the nanny, Miss Felina, marveled the last rays of the setting sun, which stained thin clouds with crimson.
“Will there be war?” Cassia, named after her aunt, asked suddenly and looked at her mother with earnest eyes of a child.
Rigantona nodded. “The independence war of Cabalusia. That is why we are going away. War is not a place for women and children.”
Valeri didn’t seem pleased. “We should be helping papa”, he said furrowing sternly. Rigantona couldn’t understand boys sometimes, not even her own. She wondered where the anger came from. Faerathos had always been calm and gentle, but Valeri was so angry all the time. “I could help father”, he added.
“11-years-old boy is more of a burden than help. We help best by leaving.” Rigantona tried to sound gentle.
“I can fight! Marcus thought me to use sword!” Valeri said raising his voice. He crossed his arms in rebelling and stern eyes narrowed. Even though he looked so much like her brother, Valeri didn’t have his balmy character.
“This conversation is fruitless. We are already going away and that is for the best.” Rigantona couldn’t stang for mindless insisting. When debating with children one couldn’t win by good argumentation, rather stubborn harping was the way to win.
For a moment Valeri seemed like he would continue protesting, but his little brother interrupted by pointing over the river to the castle and cheerfully shouting: “They’re fighting!” Rigantona turned to window and saw that Fiolew had been right, even though he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. On the bridge they had crossed a moment ago, fought at least ten men. It was hard to see so far even if the bridge was lighted. She knocked on the shutter of the chauffeur. “Mister Donne! Please halt!” The carriages stopped and also the carriages behind them, where sat Ignatus’ family and Faerathos. “Stay in the cart!” she commanded her children and stepped outside.
She took small opera glasses from the pocket of her cloak and spied over to the bridge. Now when the clatter of horses’ hoofs and jolting of the carriages didn’t overpower all other noises, she heard the gunshots. Somewhere inside the castle walls the glow of flames danced against buildings. On the bridge soldiers were fighting amongst themselves. No, assassins dressed as soldiers were fighting the castle guard. It must have been a diversion to get soldiers of castle in outside of the wall. All was clear now. They were helplessly late. Even before the letter they had already been late. The assassins of the Empress had infiltrated the castle guard. Who knows how far the treachery reached. Now they were attacking everywhere at the same time, trying not to let anyone escape. Soon the resistance would be crushed and cor Mantgamia would be no more. Someone from the imperial family would be nominated as the duke of Cabalusia, probably the brother of the late emperor. Something heavy, perhaps the realization, had fallen on the bottom of Rigantona’s stomach.
“Mama”, Tacita squeaked from the carriages. “There are men on the edge of the forest. They are coming our way. Are they bad?”
Ignatus’ wife peaked from the hinder carriage probably wondering what Rigantona was doing. “Close the door!” Rigantona shouted to her and ran inside her on cart, wrenched open the shutter and said with hurry: “Forward. As fast as you can make the horses gallop.”
Whip snapped and the carriages jerked into motion. She evaded startled eyes of her children and turned to look from the small rear window to the raiders, who neared them by the minute. Fiolew sobbed as Miss Felina hushed and stroked his hair. All of them had their eyes on her and she recognized the same fear in them that gripped her too. It was a matter of time when the raiders would catch up. Four horses dragging carriages would never outrun saddle horses, even if they were the most pure blooded Cabalusian horses of all. She drew a pistol out of her purse and loaded it with a bullet.
Questions filled her mind as the silence prolonged. How exactly they were here already? The Empress wouldn’t have surely predicted this all? Maybe the letter was only her deception, to draw cor Mantgamias out so she could destroy them with excuse? Or maybe… No. Rigantona shook the thoughts of her head. Speculation was futile at this point, with these probabilities she would never know. But she wouldn’t accept her death easily, for a woman of cor Mantgamia wouldn’t go without a fight.
She broke the rear glass with the handle of the pistol. Tacita and Miss Felina squealed, Fiolew cried. Rigantona closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then aimed to the two raiders, who hunted them with rifles in their hands. Now they were so close, that she saw the foam in mouths of the horses and the blue uniforms of Bear Castle on the riders. Carriages speeded fast, so wind resistance would be a notable factor. If they’d just get a little closer… Now! She pulled the trigger and it went off with ear stunning bang. One of the horses fell down.
She did it. She actually did it.
“Mama! You hit it!” Valeri shouted with awe in his voice. She released her breath and couldn’t help but smile. The heavy weight of fear lifted a little. They looked at each other, uncertain if it was too early to rejoice. At least now they had hope. If she’d only manage to hit the last one…
In the corner of her eye, she saw the last rider aiming at them with his rifle. She didn’t hear the shot from the noises of the carriages and the tinnitus ringing in her ears. When the bullet pierced her neck she had only time to see blood glucking on her cloak and to think how stupid she was to not duck her head after shooting.
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