Chapter4: Seeds of Rebellion

Aelius meticulously cleaned and tidied Kaya’s home, a sense of emptiness clinging to the air. A sharp knock echoed through the stillness. He opened the door, glancing quickly left and right before pulling Zao inside.

“Zao? What is it?”

“I found the informant who betrayed Kaya,” Zao said, his voice low. “His name is Kaelen. He works with the builders on the eastern wall, directly under Regulus.”

Aelius’s eyes flashed with anger. He strode to the table, snatched up his sword, and buckled it on. "Go," he commanded Zao. "Find Gavril. Tell him to meet me there. I'm going after this Kaelen."

Aelius found the construction site bustling with activity. He approached a group of builders. "Do you know a Kaelen?" he asked.

One of the builders pointed towards a young man carrying bricks. Kaelen, noticing he was the subject of attention and seeing the sword at Aelius’s side, froze. He took a step back, his eyes widening with fear.

“You there, boy! Stop!” Aelius commanded.

Kaelen bolted, his agility surprising. He weaved through the crowded marketplace. Aelius, sword drawn, gave chase. Kaelen, seeing a vendor’s cart piled high with cages of squawking birds, shoved it violently into Aelius’s path. Feathers flew as the cart overturned, momentarily blocking Aelius’s pursuit.

Aelius cursed and vaulted over the wreckage, catching sight of Kaelen disappearing down a narrow alley. He followed, the sounds of the chase echoing through the narrow passage. Kaelen kicked over a stack of barrels, sending them rolling towards Aelius. He dodged them easily and lunged forward, his sword narrowly missing Kaelen as he ducked into a side street.

Kaelen glanced back, a smirk playing on his lips, as he turned abruptly into a seemingly deserted alleyway. Aelius, sensing a trap, slowed his pace, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. He cautiously entered the alley, his eyes scanning the shadows. The alley opened into a small, open courtyard. Kaelen spun around, his smirk widening into a triumphant grin.

“Brothers!” he shouted. “Help me!”

Five men emerged from the shadows surrounding the courtyard, weapons glinting in the sunlight. They circled Aelius, trapping him. The first attacker, armed with two daggers, charged, his body low to the ground. As he neared, Aelius kicked a cloud of dust and grit into the attacker’s face. Blinded and disoriented, the man stumbled. Aelius seized the opportunity, striking him with a powerful forearm blow that sent him sprawling.

The second attacker lunged forward, his sword flashing. Aelius parried the blow, their blades clashing. He quickly gained the upper hand, disarming his opponent with a sharp twist of his wrist. The man cried out as Aelius’s sword grazed his cheek, drawing blood. He stumbled back, falling to the ground.

A massive figure, wielding a large axe, charged, roaring like a beast. Aelius rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the blow. He sprang to his feet, now behind his attacker, and delivered a swift kick to the back of the man’s knees. The attacker slammed into the wall, the air whooshing from his lungs.

The remaining two attackers pressed their assault, their swords a blur of steel. Aelius met their attack, his single sword against their two. The courtyard echoed with the clang of steel on steel. Suddenly, in a swift, unexpected maneuver, all three swords clattered to the ground. Aelius, caught off guard, had been disarmed. Before he could react, they grabbed him, pinning his arms behind his back.

The massive axeman, recovering from his collision with the wall, lumbered towards Aelius, his axe raised high. Just as he was about to bring the weapon down, a large clay pot shattered against the back of his head. He crumpled to the ground. Gavril stood behind him, the broken remnants of the pot at his feet.

Freed from his captors’ grip, Aelius spun around, quickly dispatching the two disarmed men. They fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

Aelius grabbed Kaelen, shoving him roughly against the wall, the point of his sword pressed just below the young man’s chin. "Why?!" Aelius roared, his voice echoing in the narrow alleyway. "Why did you do it? Why Kaya?!"

Kaelen stammered, his eyes wide with terror. "Nothing personal! Regulus paid me! I just listened, told him what I heard. Just for a few coins, I swear!"

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Aelius pressed the sword closer, his grip tightening. “Tell me more.”

"He… he has us choose the young men… the ones… for our Father," Kaelen blurted out, tears streaming down his face. "I swear, that's all! Just choosing… please…"

"You're mine now, boy," Aelius hissed, shoving Kaelen against the wall again. "You will tell me everything Regulus asks of you. And you will follow my orders. If anyone finds out about this, if a single word reaches Regulus, I’ll slit your throat and the throats of everyone you know. Understand?”

Kaelen nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face. "I swear! I’ll do whatever you say!"

“Then go.” Aelius released him. Kaelen scrambled to his feet and fled.

Aelius and Gavril walked in silence for a while.

"Why didn't you kill him?" Gavril asked, his brow furrowed. "Aren't you worried he'll tell Regulus everything?"

"He knows if he talks, he's a dead man," Aelius replied calmly. "He'll choose survival. He’ll play both sides. We can use that."

"One of your legionaries was looking for you," Gavril said. "He told me to tell you General Marcus is in the city. He asked about you."

Aelius frowned. "Marcus? Here? What's he doing in Aslilia?"

"Probably attending the High Council meeting with Father," Gavril replied. "You should meet with him, Aelius, to avoid suspicion."

"I'll meet with him tomorrow morning, before he leaves," Aelius said. "But right now, I need to go. I'm going to see if I can find Ricardi."

"Ricardi?!" Gavril exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Are you serious? That old snake never cared for Kaya. He won’t help."

"I know that," Aelius said, his voice grim. "But I need to understand where the Elder Brothers stand. Before I take any further steps.”

"I still don't understand," Gavril said, shaking his head. "But be careful, Aelius. Those Elders are dangerous. You can’t trust them.”

"Don't worry, brother," Aelius reassured him. "I'll be careful. I'll see you later."

In the grand throne room, the High Council of Aslilia was in session. The King, his belly slightly distended, sat upon his towering throne. The council members were assembled before him: Regulus, Regent of Aslilia; General Marcus, ruler of the western military city; Lord Valerius, Regent of the eastern trading city; Master Silas, the Treasurer; Clytos, the King’s advisor on research and science; Eva, responsible for the King’s health; and Lyra, in charge of religious affairs. The three Regents sat on the right, one chair conspicuously empty. The advisors occupied the left side.

Master Silas stood, his voice tight with concern. “Father, I do not question your sacred duty, but I implore you to reconsider this increase in births. With the mines closed, many brothers are without work, and some children are not being adopted. Our livestock and crops have suffered this year. Thefts are on the rise, and banditry plagues our roads…”

Regulus slammed his hand on the table. "Mind your tongue in our Father’s presence! How dare you question his sacred duty?! And how dare you accuse our brothers and sisters of theft and banditry! You know full well it is the outsiders, the foreigners, those influenced by that demonic hag in Cladys! As for the idle… some of our brothers have grown too comfortable, too unwilling to work for honest wages.”

The King remained silent, observing the exchange.

“Brother,” Silas challenged, his voice rising, “perhaps you can explain the wages being paid to those repairing the eastern wall? As Treasurer, I’m curious. The wall is sound. No damage, no breaches. Why the sudden renovations?”

Regulus stammered, caught off guard. “It… it is a… precautionary measure. Strengthening our defenses.”

“And you, Brother Marcus,” Silas continued, turning to the general. “Why…”

Marcus quickly nudged Lord Valerius, and they both rose, their voices booming as they interrupted Silas, drowning out his accusations with a barrage of indignant shouts.

Suddenly, the King’s voice, amplified by the vast chamber, thundered above the din. "Silence!"

The council members instantly fell silent and resumed their seats.

“The Northern Pass will reopen,” the King declared, addressing Marcus. “Increase patrols immediately.”

Marcus stood. “As you command, Father. I will recruit more brothers for the task.” He sat down.

The King turned to Lord Valerius. “Begin searching for Sacred Stones in the abandoned mines. Gradually. Discreetly. We must be first. Employ your brothers in this endeavor.”

Valerius rose. "As you command, Father." He sat.

The King surveyed the council. "Do you all support the increased birth rate?" Every hand went up, except Silas’s, who hesitated before slowly raising his own.

“The council is adjourned,” the King announced. He rose, and the council members followed suit, bowing their heads as he exited through a rear door.

Silas, his face a mask of fury, stormed out the main entrance. The three Regents followed, their voices low as they conferred amongst themselves.

“That fool,” Valerius muttered. “Why is he so obsessed with us?”

“Ignore him,” Marcus said dismissively. “He’s just venting his frustration. He’s powerless.”

Regulus clapped Marcus on the shoulder. “Brothers, let’s not let him spoil our mood. Tonight, we celebrate. My city, my treat.”

“Always the generous host,” Marcus chuckled. The three Regents walked away, their laughter echoing in the high-ceilinged corridor outside the throne room.