Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Drama

Lucca walked along one of countless corridors of the Palace with sunken heart, barely keeping up with the guard that brusquely woke him up and commanded to follow. Not that he got much sleep anyway; echoes of yesterday’s commotions were still strong and real. Death of probably the most loved and respected chancellor for the past hundred years will be remembered and grieved months and months from now, and the suspicions against Lord Emilio, well…for those Benevento family might even pay with blood soon enough.
In a few hours the whole Palace will be awake, the bells on top of every church no matter how small shall ring, two flags above the emerald dome shall be lowered down, and heralds shall flood the streets, dutifully informing all those that haven’t grasped it already, that honourable Jenoah Scordato is dead, murdered in cold blood by no other than Emilio Benevento. At first, the city will become numb, awfully quiet and moody, people will sorrow and mourn, tell each other in sincerely sad voices what a benevolent and peaceful ruler the late chancellor was. When the stage of acceptance is finished, they will start asking questions, become worried and unsteady, and by the end of the day, the capital of Avaritia will resemble an overcrowded hive, with countless bees buzzing from uncontrollable rage at those who dared to disturb their uneventful existence. 
If not yet for his siblings, Lucca was certain that for him the reckoning has already came. It was waiting for him at the very top of a spiral staircase, behind a doorstep he never crossed before, but always dreamt of. The legendary council chamber, under a majestic dome, where fates of so many people are often decided in a heartbeat, will now hold court for another sinner. Making his way up, Lucca furtively took out one of the remaining silvers from last night’s plunder and playfully tossed the coin in the air catching it in a closed palm. Tails. “Even a fucking coin thinks I’m a dead man walking” – grimly thought Lucca climbing the final few steps. Was it all for nothing? His perfect crime, the dangerous truth he most definitely wasn’t meant to uncover, the only remaining chance to clean his father’s name and by extension his own, will it all sink into oblivion the moment those doors fly open and the councilmen lay their accusing eyes on him? 
To Lucca’s great surprise, and perhaps a good ounce of hope, the room seemed completely empty and thus breathtakingly beautiful. In the very middle stood the only ordinary feature of the chamber – a long black table with a lone jug of wine placed on the edge. At the head of the table stood the throne, and although Avaritia had no King, it would be a great understatement to compare the seat of the chancellor with anything less regal. On the top rail, two golden palms stretched out horizontally holding a sphere with a human eye engraved on it – a symbol of wise leadership and pacifism, as Avaritia wasn’t engaged in any open military conflict since its very creation, which was quite impressive considering many savage neighbours deeper into the continent and a monstrous Stahl Empire looming across the sea. The seat itself was very elegantly carved and for a brief moment Lucca imagined how heady and empowering it must be to preside over this council and shape the future and present of your nation and home. 
Just few steps away from the table a magnificent greenhouse stretched in both directions. Lucca couldn’t even see the edge of the room at this point, winding trails lined with marble ran between exotic palms and carefully shaped shrubs. The masterful work of the gardener was obvious, the council’s personal oasis of wild nature was kept in perfect condition and was truly a sight to behold. When Lucca came closer to one of the trees, he immediately noticed a huge spider web hanging between to branches. Lucca froze in place, holding his breath as he witnessed its architect moving slowly towards one of the edges, anticipating a capture of a white butterfly tightly enveloped in a cluster of strings. Soldiers and warriors are not often considered as sentimental and sensitive types, and Lucca most certainly didn’t think of himself as one, but he couldn’t help but feel pain and sympathy for the doomed pray, especially in a wake of recent events. The spider was moving closer and closer…
“Quite mesmerizing, is it not?” – a sharp voice broke through Lucca’s thoughts. 
He recoiled from the tree, span around and by a well-trained and rehearsed instinct, pulled the sword half way from the sheath. Eusebio Succi sitting in one of the simple wooden chairs paid Lucca’s startle no mind, proceeding to filling two glasses with wine. Lord Regent himself was unarmed and as far as Lucca could judge, there were no one else in this room but them. 
“Please, make yourself comfortable, we have a lot of affairs to settle today” – said Eusebio and pointed at the seat across. 
Lucca obliged, mentally preparing himself to a battle of wits with a far more skilled and able opponent, a person who saw chancellor’s coffers stuffed with silver and gold no matter the trading climate or who was in charge was bound to be intelligent and resourceful. 
Eusebio pushed a glass of wine towards Lucca, and was rewarded with a suspicious and resentful look. 
“Nothing to worry about, this one doesn’t contain any lethal substance in it, I’ve thoroughly checked.” – reassured Eusebio, while stealing the glance towards a small parrot cage partially hidden in the leaves. “You see, I begged Jenoah to get himself a personal taster, or at least one of those chattering beauties, but … he was too trusting, had such naïve thoughts about people surrounding him. It wasn’t the wine that killed him, if you ask me, not even the one who poisoned it, but his own negligence.” 
After saying those words Eusebio shifted his eyes from the window he was staring at the whole time and gazed straight at Lucca’s face. 
“Sadly, you seem to be repeating the late chancellor’s mistakes, heading down the same dark path, so few emerge from unscathed…”
Lucca grabbed the glass and emptied it at a single gulp, trying to wash down the panic that engulfed him the second he met the Regent’s eyes. He knows. 
“I am not sure I understand what you mean, my Lord.” – replied Lucca, his voice certainly betraying whatever he was trying to conceal.
“Sure, I am not expressing myself very clearly.” – nodded Eusebio several times. “You’d be surprised how common the temporary amnesia is in people when you so much as hint at unveiling their secrets. But if you are not thinking ahead, all your words of excuse are worth nothing. Too bad you forgot about that while sneaking out of the barracks on a fisherman boat when I explicitly ordered you not to.” 
“Which one was it then, the first or the second?” – bitterly asked Lucca, anxiety and despair started to mix up in Lucca’s brain and anger was already slowly building inside.  
“Both, in fact. Just as the sun hit the horizon yesterday, there they were, with their smelly clothes and miraculous stories. I didn’t entirely believe it at the beginning, but fortunately there was a confirmation.” 
“And how much did you give them?” – lunging forward almost screaming asked Lucca, “What? Two times as much silver, four, five? Or, perhaps you even honored them with gold?” 
Without saying a word, Eusebio stared at Lucca with curiosity and a certain degree of pity, as he opened his embroidered with expensive cloth purse, grabbed a handful of coins and threw them on the table. Taken aback, Lucca watched as some of the coins rolled towards him, eventually coming to abrupt stop. The sides of nearly all silvers were drenched in withered blood.  
“That’s how you keep a secret, Lucca.” – not taking his eyes of the guardian spoke Eusebio, “Not by paying the poor fishermen what they have never seen in their miserable lives before. Big sums don’t provide saturation, only more greed, especially to the less tempted.” 
Lucca only shook his head and swept the silvers away. 
“Fine, you caught me! My applauses to your appalling efficiency!” – at this point Lucca didn’t even tried to hide the bile and agony that increased with each passing moment. More likely than not it was exactly what Succi was hoping for, if only that realization made it feel any better. – “Keep calling me a suckling idiot who knows shit about discretion all you like. But since you are such a smart bastard, pray tell me why the fuck haven’t I been beheaded for some “high treason” yet? Cause you know full well, that I’d rather drink a full jar of poisonous wine than disclose the contents of those letters to a haughty mug like you!” 
Eusebio threw back his head in a fit of loud laughter. 
“Do you really think I wish to execute more Beneventos than it’s required of me?” – still smiling inquired Lord Regent, “Instead of having this painful conversation, I would rather release you and your father both and hope to get an invitation for a happy family reunion feast. See, I don’t particularly care about justice here, Scordato was a lost cause. I strongly doubt that he would have been re-elected, more likely a runner-up with a ton of respect and best wishes for the retirement. The common people though…As soon as his body is cold they would suddenly love him like a father to the nation. With enough evidence against a potential murderer, they will want blood. And when the masses are craving to gut someone, what a wise and considered nobleman does is ensure that his own bowels remain intact.” 
Ambiguous threat and a hint at positive resolution, Succi was rightly credited for his manipulative ways, but Lucca wasn’t confused enough to fall for any of it. The horrific memories of last day, which likely will never abandon the darkest corner of Lucca’s mind, helped him keep his thoughts intact. They will lock me up, but it won’t matter…but it won’t matter…won’t matter. His father was on the righteous path – it was the only thing Lucca was certain of, that and the danger floating above not just his family, but the whole country. It won’t matter. Lord Emilio’s imprisonment and even death won’t matter, as long as someone will continue the fight against some unknown evil in the mines. Lucca knew so little, but he wasn’t about to trade with the devil, wasn’t about to betray his father’s confidence. 
“Screw you and your mind games, my answer stays the same. I might have forgotten what the letters say, I might have never read them in the first place. Go on, soak some more quarters in blood and be done with it!” 
As soon as Lucca finished, Eusebio stood up and furiously tugging his monocle walked towards the transparent emerald wall. Even though his face was impossible to read, the frustration and anger were apparent, and certainly didn't promise Lucca any favorable outcomes. Guess the fucking coin was right after all – bitterly thought Lucca, twisting his head around, trying to find that spider he looked at earlier, somehow more interested in butterfly's fate than his own. The web was standing still once again, only its master sitting proudly in the center, waiting for another pray. Was he one of these countless bugs and butterflies, doomed to be devoured by a higher power, ruthless and unforgiving? Lucca though he was prepared. In the quick moment of silence, he already made up the words, Succi was going to say, imagined how he would react, and what will follow… None of it mattered, when the Regent finally spoke. 
“There is no person in the world, who is more sorry than I am” – slowly pronounced Eusebio, as if struggling to get the words out, while his eyes were burning with a flame of hate and rage. “I can appreciate your loyalty towards your father, I really do, but it shouldn’t have belonged to him. You’ve forgotten who you are, it seems. You are a member of a chancellor’s division, for God’s sake! Your loyalty was meant to be Scordato’s up until his last breath, since then it was meant to be mine. Such was the oath you swore, and completely disregarded.” 
Eusebio started to pace back and forth between the window and a throne, never looking Lucca in the eyes, continuing his lengthy torture of a speech.
“You disobeyed my command to remain in the barracks, you tampered with the evidence to the most dreadful crime in living memory, and you disrespected me by questioning me and refusing to collaborate. God bears witness, you do deserve to die alongside your father on the Judgement Square! But I’m not a violent person.” – Eusebio stopped and triumphantly gazed at Lucca, “You are dismissed from service to the realm. Take off your green cloak, it’s time we find someone more worthy and honest to wear it. As for your father, he will be tried in full accordance with the Avaritian law. Best of luck in keeping your secrets.”
After proudly proclaiming his sentence, Lord Regent came closer to the window and fixated his gaze on the sea as if he already forgot about the young soldier he just completely annihilated. 
Lucca didn't realize he could want something so badly, couldn't imagine that an all-consuming desire begotten by despair and rage will settle so deeply in his mind that consequences or morals won't matter anymore. How easy it might be done, how effortlessly he – well trained and healthy youth – can lunge forward, grab this feeble, defenseless figure and throw him out of the window onto the sharp stones beneath the castle. Of course, he would need to share Regent's fate, but this prospect hardly troubled Lucca at this point. With Succi dead, father’s pawn Vieri would probably take the regency, might even work things out – Luigi is a renowned justiciar, if anyone could save father it’s him. Sounds great. Looks like I am still capable of rational thinking after all, Eusebio.
Lucca slowly stood up, trying to make the least noise possible. He took a deep breath, preparing himself, like a tiger seconds away from a decisive attack. As soon as Lucca made a first step towards the target, he heard the horrible screech of the doors behind him, and the sound of leather boots followed. Lucca twisted his head around in agony only to glimpse a running guard before he tackled him to the ground and violently shoved Lucca’s head into the floor. 
“I think we are done here. Get him out of the palace immediately.” – said Eusebio and hastily exited the room. Lucca couldn’t see the Regent’s face but he would bet his life that Succi was smiling.  
The silent guard left him at the archway leading to the Bridge of Ancestors, ripped the green cloak from his shoulders, took away the long sword. Lucca didn’t even try to resist. The moment had passed, the coin was in fact wrong, or was it? But I am not a violent person. Eusebio's sarcastic remark made Lucca clench his fists. What is more violent than take away everything that matters, destroy a dream with a snap of a finger, turn upside down the simple honest life of a guardian and throw him away like a dog who dared to grin at the master? What would even become of him now? All those years of wishful thinking about being a people's hero, a true knight of the realm, the faith, all the defenceless and the poor, plans for the triumphs, dreams of the fairest maids begging for his favor. Gone. In a split second. Just like that. Gone… 
Busy, buzzing streets, constant shouts of merchants, steady screech of rolling carts, sounds of coachmen’s whips, indistinctive chatter all around…Lucca just walked forward, trying to take in the beauty, the life, the excitement of the majestic capitol, while feeling none of it himself. He firmly bypassed the turn to the Mercante street leading to Benevento’s mansion, and never looked back at the looming watchtowers, where he knew the commander is as red-faced and raging as always over some sort of incompetence from the newbies. Lucca wasn’t ready to face neither his siblings, who are surely consumed with grief and worry as it is, nor Rizzo, who has become like a second father to him. Although logic dictated him to have a long and meaningful talk with the commander trying to figure out the mess they both are drenched in right now, Lucca couldn’t bare to witness a painful apologetic look on Rizzo’s wrinkled face. The old man might seem hard and cold but he has a gentle heart and Lucca was sure that Rizzo would blame the dismissal on himself.
After a few miles of sorrowful thoughts and imagining various ways of revenge on Succi, Lucca ended up on the doorstep of "The Mocking Barrel" – one of the few decent taverns he and his brothers-at-arms used to frequent off duty. The bartender Cyrus, plump and cheerful as ever, gasped in astonishment and hastily proceeded to filling a huge cup of ale. Safe to say that elite guardians were his favorite guests – a considerable share of their weekly payments always found a way in Cyrus' wide pockets. Lucca seated himself at the farthest corner of the room away from all the glances and whispers. He's heard enough of them along the way… 
“Benevento scum! Emilio should pay for what he’s done.” 
“Fucking bastard, hope they hang draw and quarter the son of a bitch!”
“Shame to the Beneventos!”
Such was the overall spirit of the citizens, heated even more by the endless preachers of the heralds. Unless the real murderer is found soon… Succi was right at that much, if father is tried on the Judgement Square and somehow pardoned, the crowd will go wild. 
Lucca quickly emptied his cup and gestured for Cyrus to fetch another. He desperately needed to ease his mind and let go of the pain that consumed him. As far as Lucca was concerned right now, ale was the best way to do it, unless he was fortunate enough to pick up a good fight, but that would lead him back into Succi’s hands much sooner than he’d want to. He emptied the second cup…then the third…waiving for the forth already proved to be quite a difficult task. Coupled with wine drank at the palace, such amount of ale was doing a moderate job at making Lucca less focused on the tribulations of the day. Just when Cyrus was returning from the cellar, rolling up a barrel, the doors of the inn swung open and three women in what a noble would call “frivolous clothes” walked in. Despite the world swimming by in front of Lucca’s eyes, he could still distinguish the brand of black rose on each woman’s neck. Courtesans… This day might yet end better than I thought. Either the whole town has taken the vows of celibacy in mourning for Scordato, leaving those fine ladies unoccupied, or Cyrus decided to promote the second floor of his establishment into a brothel. Judging by a curt nod from the innkeeper to the newly arrived, Lucca guessed the latter. 
When the ladies finished a short discussion about undoubtedly significant matters with the innkeeper, each of them started seductively walking towards the table that might supposedly be interested in their services. The courtesan with short blonde hair, the one who seemed to be a “Madame” among the three, walked straight up to Lucca and unceremoniously seated herself on his table. Her hand secluded in a long black glove gently touched Lucca’s hair and traced along his face and shoulder. She paused for a moment staring directly in his eyes, her head slowly tilted to the right, the other hand playfully tugging at the neckline. Lucca let out a laugh and relaxed leaning back into his chair.
“What, admiring the view, are you?” – asked Lucca taking another sip of ale.
The courtesan languidly sighed, moved closer now placing both hands on Lucca’s shoulders, slightly pressing against them as if to check the strength. 
“What’s not to admire? A handsome, brave, strong warrior … and looks like he’s certainly in need of some company” – she smiled with a corner of her lips, looked over her right shoulder to the stairs leading to guest rooms and raised her eyebrow in question.
Since no verbal denial was expressed, the courtesan proceeded to work her frankly primitive but always rather effective charms further. She gracefully stood up from the table and bending over Lucca started whispering in his ear, while her hand started moving its way down to his crotch.
“You can sit their alone in silence, sadly brooding over something, or…we could perhaps entertain ourselves a bit, huh?”
“Indeed we could…” – eagerly replied Lucca now inexorably forced to stair directly at the lady’s nearly exposed breasts, which was probably her exact intention. 
The consent has been given, client was legitimately hooked, so without further ado, the courtesan took Lucca by the hand and confidently led him to the stairs. Lucca was absolutely certain that given the state he is in, she will rip him off beyond any reasonable measure, but since most of his silver was left on Succi’s table, he wasn’t too concerned about loosing some more. When they finally reached one of Cyrus’ modest rooms and she carefully locked the door behind them, Lucca nearly tripped over the bed but held on to the nearby table containing at least some dignity he had left. 
“What is…what is your name, at least?” – managed to blurt out Lucca, while silently cursing his twisting tongue. 
“Camilla” – sharply answered the woman, “But that’s not what should be on your mind right now”.
By the time she finished a sentence, she was already fully disrobed, her naked beauty illuminated in the sunrays that were entering the room through the ragged curtains. Camilla walked up to Lucca and started masterfully removing his breastplate and mail, her experience in entertaining "handsome, brave warriors" more and more evident with each movement of her gentle hands. As soon as the last bit of Lucca's clothes was discarded to the floor, he took Camilla by the waist, spun her around like a feather and with her in his arms tumbled on the bed. Her hands guided Lucca inside her, then she wrapped them around his back and pulled closer. As Lucca was driving in again and again, she began to moan louder and fiercer while her nails were leaving vicious scratches on his back. When Lucca was already wearing himself out, she lifted his head up and kissed him deeply in the lips, just seconds before he exploded into her. 
Still lying on top of her, breathing heavily, Lucca felt confused and surprised. Whores never ever kiss you on the lips. That’s about the only thing they don’t actually do. So, why this sudden show of true passion now? 
“This was amazing, my brave soldier” – whispered Camilla stroking Lucca’s hair.
With the corner of his eyes Lucca glimpsed the moment when her right hand slipped underneath the bed sheet. The smile evaporated instantly from the courtesan's face and the next thing Lucca saw was the edge of a blade closing in on his neck. Barely realizing what he's even doing, Lucca relied on the instinct and deflected Camilla's hand downwards. A heartbeat later he felt a piercing stingy pain just beneath the ribs. Screaming in agony, Lucca rolled off the bed and landed flatly on the blue carpet which instantly began soaking with blood. Camilla, apparently in no rush, stood up, holding the knife tightly, determined to finish the job. Struggling to keep his eyelids open, trying his best not to faint or cry, Lucca watched the courtesan leaning over him aiming for the fatal strike. Clenching his teeth, with a horrific roar, Lucca jerked his leg sideways striking Camilla off balance. Gasping in surprise, the courtesan fell down smashing her head against the table. The knife went sliding from Camilla's arm along the floor. Summoning all the remaining strength and will Lucca caught the handle and plunged the steel right into her chest. Bewildered and angered expression forever solidified on her beautiful pale face. 
What a fucking day…Groaned Lucca and the remains of his consciousness left him.