The Daughter Of Stones

Chapter Twenty-Four. Heavy Is The Head

The smell of burned wood, stone, and flesh was fresh in the air. The glorious Crestbone village, the first place to welcome ships from distant lands, now blackened, was a pile of ashes and dust. Two days of rain had put down the smoke, revealing black broken logs and the remains of innocent villagers - fishermen, farmers, mothers, and children. Once again, Bittery Hills lived up to their cursed name, singing its howling song of sorrow far away into the sea.

A wooden brow of a docked ship landed on a wooden pier. King Liam's heavy boot stepped onto the pier, followed by his fellow soldiers. Only one ship arrived at the port, leaving the rest of the army behind, anchored nearby and ready to dock upon a signal.

King Liam took a deep breath, his eyes filled with deep concern.

"Something is wrong," he said, listening to the sounds of the morning. No birds were singing, and no cheerful voices or music came from the Crestbone village. "There's no harbormasters, no ships."

Rufus came up, putting his shield down and looking around.

"Tell me, Rufus," King Liam said, looking at a row of fishing boats docked on the other side of the pier. "How many fishermen do you know who skip the morning shift?"

"None, my King," Rufus said. "The fish are slow and hungry in the morning - easy catch."

"Easy catch, aye," the King repeated, letting out an angry grunt. "Come, let's pay a visit to the Crestbone village. Something is mightily wrong."

"Shouldn't we first wait for the battalion to go dry?" Rufus asked, not expecting such a rushed course of action.

"I'm afraid we might not need to dry them at all," said King Liam, drawing his sword and walking toward the road leading to the Crestbone village.

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As they walked up the sandy hill, a horrible sight opened before their gaze. Rufus covered his mouth with his hand. King Liam let out a heavy breath and returned his sword to the scabbard.

"What happened here?" Rufus whispered, unwilling to believe his eyes. The Island King walked to the main gates, now two badly charred logs protruding from the ground, and touched the burnt wood.

"Fresh, no more than three days ago," he concluded, rubbing his fingers and smearing a black mark the charcoal left on them.

Rufus looked at a burned trail in the ground, with charred bodies of fallen villagers scattered along.

"These people were running away to the woods. Shot in the back and set on fire. The whole village! Children, women - nothing is left. There's no sign of battle. It's not a battle - it is a massacre. Who did that?" Rufus asked, tears in his eyes as he saw some bodies piled together in a bonfire.

"We did," said the Island King in a grave voice. Rufus looked at him with fear in his eyes.

"We, sire?"

"It's a set-up. Ikalot. He knew we were coming, knew the trade blockade was hurting the southern viceroys, and they would prefer peaceful negotiations to war. He knows I've made an alliance with free tribes in the East. His only way to win in this situation was to undermine my authority. And he sacrificed a whole village for that," the Island King lowered on one knee and picked up a half-burnt small shoe from the ground.

"I don't understand, sire," Rufus looked down, his eyes wide open in astonishment and disbelief.

"The Free Island will be held responsible for the massacre in the Crestbone village. He turned me from a freedom fighter into an animal," the last words came out as a whisper. King Liam felt the terrible weight of the realization dragging him down to the ground.

"No, it's not possible," Rufus came to his king, trying to find words of support. "No one would believe the King. We must warn the eastern tribes!"

"It's too late. By now, the word has already traveled all over Grailand, I'm sure of that. Every viceroy and ally knew we were to sail to the mainland. I was told to wait, and this is what I was waiting for. Here I am, arrived perfectly in time for my public execution."

"Then we return to the Islands and fight, my King," Rufus cried, unwilling to accept the horrible fate that awaited the Free Islands if the viceroys agreed to support the Reign Supreme and if they lost the alliance with the East. "We have men and women ready to die for their freedom. Let us show the mad Ikalot we are not some political pawns he can toss into his boiling pot of devious schemes!"

"We won't last through the colds without trading contracts!" The King barked, failing to find a quick solution for the situation he found himself in.

"And the Iron Witch? She is powerful, she can help us. We have what she seeks for, the mines!"

"Don't you see it, Rufus?" The Island King gave him a long, sorrowful look. "She has been on Ikalot's side all this time."

King Liam took off his metal crown - a simple metal oval with lions hunting prey and sleeping in the barley carved in a circle.

"Who am I? I thought I could be a leader, but I am just a farmer who got tired of seeing children die from famine. Island King," King Liam huffed. "A farmer from the village."

He turned the crown and rolled it in his hands, watching the rough carvings. Someone from his made this crown a few years ago after their first victory against the Reign Supreme battalion quartered there. He led the people that day. A rebellion they called it, but it was much more than a rebellion. It was a payday for all the cruelty the soldiers brought to the lands, for his wife was murdered by a drunk soldier with no name, who then was pardoned by the appointed commander. They started as farmers and now they were an army.

"I failed to see the obvious, and I can't let my mistake be the cause of thousands of deaths. This war was over before it even began. Return to the Islands. I will seek Ikalot's blessing and pledge our allegiance to the Reign Supreme. Perhaps he will spare the people and let them live their lives in peace," said King Liam with tears in his eyes.

A sound of cold steel sliding up the locket broke the morning silence. Rufus stood behind Liam, aiming his sword at the Island King and crying.

"I won't let you. For five years we stood together. For five years we led the people to freedom. You can't abandon them. Your fight. Me!"

Liam raised his head and looked at Rufus's young face. He stepped forward, but the boy didn't flinch, holding his sword up. Liam came closer to the tip of the blade and wrapped his palm around it.

Unspeakable terror filled Rufus's eyes as he watched the Island King pierce his chest with the blade. He wanted to pull it out but couldn't find the strength in his hand. Liam took another step, driving the blade deeper into his body, and a thin red line of blood streamed down his mouth. With another heavy step, the blade tore through his clothing and emerged from the other side. Liam coughed blood, gargling with every next breath he took.

Rufus stood motionless, barely holding the sword, opening and closing his mouth. With a last effort, Liam placed his crown on Rufus's head and touched his cheek with his palm, leaving a brushstroke of hot blood on his young face.

"I failed you all, my son. My death is your only chance to convince the allies that our hands are clean. Use my sacrifice wisely, and don't make the same mistakes I did. Heavy is the head that wears the crown," he whispered and let out his last breath, leaning forward as his soul left his body.

Rufus took a step backward, watching his father's body fall to the ground. Drops of blood dripped from the tip of his sword, just like tears from his eyes.