Short story – King Of None

Standing on the edge of the war camp, Isambard looked at the beauty of the capital. Soon it would be all his. Finally, he would fulfil his destiny and lead in a new age for humanity, just like he had always dreamt. All that stood in his way now were the walls surrounding the capital and those that stood ready to guard them. Until now he had been able to win his battles with clever tactics. Setting traps, laying ambushes and sabotaging had been some of his greatest weapons. He knew they would do him no good now. Fortunately, he had been able to strengthen his force greatly over the years. Defected soldiers, peasants who hated the king, fortune seekers, mercenaries and fanatics thinking him some messiah, they all followed him blindly. Walking through the camp he felt the gaze of everyone who was counting on him, it was a heavy burden but he knew it was his by right, only he could give these people a better future. Finally, he reached the centre of the camp where his tent stood. When he entered his most trusted generals were already sitting around the table. Ancel, previously one of the king’s best generals, would lead the rear, overseeing the battles and giving commands using coloured smoke. A tactic thought of by Blaise, the engineer overseeing the siege engines. Ebrulf would lead the main. Leaving only himself to lead the vanguard just as he had done every other battle. After the meeting concluded all but one of his generals went back to their tents. Luna would stay with him a bit longer, when the rest of the camp slept, she would lead a small party to try and infiltrate the capital. She looked at him with worried eyes “You alright Isambard?” she asked “You look worried?”. “I have always known that I was destined to sit on that throne ” he answered “But now when we are so close, I worry that all I would bring is more war and suffering”. “We wage this war for it to be the last, remember that” she moved to sit closer to him, stealing a kiss. “Please be careful Luna” he said, “I would be lost on that throne without you”. She silenced his worry with another kiss pulling him towards his sleeping quarters.

When Isambard woke the next morning finding Luna already gone. His squire already stood ready for him to help equip his armour. Getting out of his tent he saw that most of the camp was already broken down. Walking to the field in front of the castle he could finally see the full scope of his army. At least 50.000 people were lining up. In between them stood enormous siege towers, ballistae and trebuchets. In the middle of the main stood an enormous battering ram, ready to knock down the gate. The soldiers who would man it were protected by a pointed steel roof, courtesy of Blaise who was surely around somewhere making some last improvements to the siege engines. He worried, for even if he outnumbered the capital’s army 5 to 1, no siege came without major losses. The only way he even managed to create this advantage was by luring most of the king’s army away to a decoy of himself.  He continued to walk until he reached the front of the vanguard. Positioning himself on a large rock, he overlooked his army. “My people!” he shouted as loud as he could, “Today we make history! Today we tear down the walls of the corrupt swine who calls himself king!”. “While he sits on his golden throne, getting fat on the food he hoards, we, the people have been starving!” “No more!”  “We will take the imposter down and I, Isambard, will lead us to a brighter future!” “A future where your children need not starve, your brothers need not go to war, and your wives need not fear for their lives!” “So do I swear, Isambard, first of his name, leader of the eagle wings and rightful king! ” The crowd erupted into shouts “Isambard! Isambard! Isambard” they chanted. He let them all go on for a bit longer before he came down to enter the formation himself. His squire came to bring him his weapons, a small shield mounted to his left arm and a plain longsword. He waited a little while longer, steeling him for the bloody battle to come before giving the signal. Horn blasts sounded over the army and the rhythmic beating of drums started to full the air as they began charging the walls.

Arrows flew around him, smoke filled his lungs, his arms had gone numb some time ago and he was covered in blood. They had managed to break through the defences some time ago, scaling the walls and breaching the gate. He was now leading a final push towards his throne. The remnants of the defensive force were stalling them any way they could. Archers went from roof to roof to shoot at them and every small passageway removed their numbered advantage, turning into bloody melees. After the slowest hours of his life, he stood before the steps of the holy palace. His main force was continuing to fight the remaining defendants all over the city while the rear kept guard outside the walls. Leaving only him and his thinned-out vanguard to deal with the king and his palace guards. “Thadeus, give up and leave your palace now and I will spare your life!” He shouted at the palace. To this surprise, the doors opened and the king walked out surrounded by his guards. “I must applaud you” he said “If it weren’t for a little birdy, We would certainly have lost against you, Isambard”. Before he could process what the king meant, two more guards came out the doors carrying someone between them. He realised with a shock it was Luna, bloody and mutilated. “Ah you know her I see, this little lady came to me some time ago, telling me a tale of a ruse to lure my army away by some country bumpking who thinks himself the rightful king.”. “Of course, such information did not come cheap to me, she wanted immunity to her rabble of spies and infiltrators and a position in my court”. “But what use does a king have for a traitor!” he spit. “So I went ahead and started with her punishment.” Isambard had known deep down for some time Luna could not be trusted, his dreams had never lied before, yet he had refused to believe it. “I’d rather lose everything than be forced to end her” he had thought back then and now he would. He could see soldiers coming from the streets surrounding their position, and from behind the walls he could see crimson smoke rising, meaning the king’s main army had returned. It was over, he had lost everything. Yet he would not go down without a fight. “Defensive positions!” he shouted, and his men complied, ready to fight till the last.

The attackers came from all sides striking at the wall of shields and spears his men had formed. Every comrade that fell was quickly replaced by another and every assailant that managed to break through was quickly cut down by him and the men within the formation. For every man they lost, the attackers lost at least 5 but he could see their numbers were dropping. Behind him, the attackers finally managed to break through their wall turning their defensive formation into a chaotic bloodbath. His men were being cut down all around him but he had no time to worry about this. An attacker swung his shortsword at him and he brought his longsword to meet it, smashing it away with surprising force creating an opening he used to quickly dispatch the soldier. The first attacker had not even hit the ground before another had taken his place, continuing the bloody dance Isambard knew so well. Guard, parry, slash, dodge, slash, guard they kept coming and he kept cutting them down. He was fighting alone now, surrounded by his comrades and betrayed by his true love. He swung his longsword like it weighed nothing, taken over by anger he cut his way through the attackers up the stairs. The king who had been observing the ordeal with glee in his eyes up until that point started to panic. Isambard was running up the stairs now, screaming “Theoden!” As he made his way to the now-also-running king, an arrow penetrated his shoulder yet he barely felt it. He was within reach of the king now, raising his sword, ready to avenge his comrades. But before he could do so, a sword went through his right arm, taking it clean off. The sword belonged to Ancel who now stood before the king. “Another traitor!” he thought, blinded by rage as he was grabbed by multiple hands from behind dragging him down on his knees. The king, once again feeling safe, walked up to him, pulling a knife out of its scabbard. “You came so close Isambard” he said “But now I am done entertaining this folly.”. The king brought his face close to his, putting the knife against his throat. “You will die, your men will hang and I will have my fun with your traitorous lady friend” Before the king could slice his throat, Isambard reached with his mouth to the throat of the king and bit down, using his last power to rip it out spraying blood all over. Both men fell to the ground, he had lost more blood from his arm than he had thought. Men rushed over to help the king but he knew he had succeeded. Yet his anger remained, ending the king was not enough. As his lifeblood seeped into the stones, so did his mind. He had been betrayed. His dreams had always told him he would be the one to bring humanity to a brighter future, so why did he lay here dying? As he breathed his last breath, he vowed to take revenge, on all those that had betrayed him and the gods that had promised him his place in history. He would make sure he was remembered, no matter the cost.