The Infernal King | 1 ✓

CHAPTER VI | AFTERMATH OF TORTURE

       ORANGE FLAMES—LICKING their prey and hissing like pythons—engulfed the body's remains, searing flesh away from charred bones. Smoke swirled upwards into the air, painting the blue sky slate grey, while the ashes of the entrails settled peacefully to the ground.

Prior to the burning, the corpse had been quartered (chopped into four pieces) by the executioner. He had used a relatively blunt axe, which had required him to take several blows before the body had been successfully quartered. The horde of people ceased to disperse, and instead watched the body burn with a sort of mesmeric relief. The killer of their precious King Tevenot II was dead—or so they thought.

Admittedly, Maarit was relieved that his death was over with. He would no longer have to suffer. Nevertheless, as she watched the new king slip away safely on his horse, surrounded by many guardsmen, she began breathing hard out of fury. There were no executions that were carried out without direct orders from the king.

King Theodoracius had ordered all of it—the emasculation, the burning, the whipping, the beheading, the quartering. It was all to cover up the crime that he had truly committed. The only two people in the entire world that knew with absolute certitude that the servant had not killed King Tevenot were Maarit and Theodoracius—though Keion and Helios believed her, they had not seen the vision for themselves.

Hardly anyone noticed the king's departure. They were either staring at the burning remains with a morbid fascination, shielding their children's eyes from the sight or speaking with unbridled hysteria.

Maarit was righteous; though she had not been able to do anything to prevent the servant's execution, what she needed to do was to make sure that everyone knew he had been innocent. She was treading on treacherous terrain, for she could very well have ended up the next to be executed in the same torturous fashion. However, if she, at the very least, managed to turn all of Fribois against King Theodoracius (more so than they already were by King Tevenot's constant badmouthing of his son), she would be diluted into the crowd of people rebelling against him.

He could not possibly have an entire village executed, especially when said village was the country's capital. If he did, there would be no one left to impose his authority on.

Now.

The black-haired girl's legs moved before she even realized what she was doing.

She shoved her way to the very front.

"Maarit!" Helios said, struggling to make her hear his voice above the commotion. "What are you doing?"

She whirled around, her midnight hair flying wildly out of her face, only to see both Valence brothers staring at her: they had pushed through the mob to reach her. Helios appeared baffled, whereas Keion's expression was accusing.

"It must be now!" she insisted firmly, sounding slightly harsher than she had originally meant to.

Understanding crossed over Helios's features; Keion continued to glare at her, as though urging her not to do what she was planning to do.

"When exactly do you suppose everyone in Fribois will be gathering here once more—in the exact same place, at the exact same time?" she questioned rhetorically. "It is highly unlikely for me to ever have this opportunity again. It must be now."

"Are you sure about this?" Keion asked, running his hands through his own hair nervously. His blue eyes were insistent, worried and saddened all at once.

Maarit avoided the question he had posed. She looked down, averting her eyes from his. "I regret it already," she said, before boldly stepping up onto the platform at the very centre of the village.

It was an ineffable act that was valiant nonetheless. When a message needed to be delivered to the people, there was always a messenger that stood atop the platform to deliver it. Never before had it been a woman. Maarit had to make them hear her—she had to ensure that her voice resonated more with the villagers than her gender did.

The guillotine was still soaked with innocent blood, dropping from the silver blade. Maarit had never been so close to a guillotine in her entire life. Glancing sideways at it while she waited for quiet, she had to remind herself multiple times that the executioner and all of the king's men had already departed. She would not be killed for telling the truth—she would not allow that.

Suddenly unsure of how to get everyone's attention, she held her arms out as though commanding silence to fall over them. She needed to wait no more than thirty seconds before she had redirected their attention to where she stood. The sensation of hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of eyes falling on her made her feel exposed before she had even told them anything. Still, it was too late to back away, so she urged herself to speak.

"There is something that I must announce to all of you!" Maarit bellowed, allowing her voice to be carried by the faint breeze. Her voice was stronger than she had expected it to be; there was not a trace of a tremble in her voice or of a nervous quiver of her lips. There was a certain power in standing up before the entire village, knowing something that no one else knew.

Behind her, the crackling fire had died out and left behind a pile of embers, which were scattered by the light wind. The smoke had risen into the sky, practically forming a new grey cloud that had not been there before. The torrid sun shone in her eyes blindingly, causing her to squint.

"The execution should never have happened," Maarit said unabashedly, disregarding the outraged cries, gasps and protests.

They were so loud that Maarit was unable to get any more words in. Her lips parted as a sigh escaped. Then, her eyes seemed to darken with irritation. She clenched her fists at her sides. If they would not take her seriously, she would force them to.

"SILENCE!" she roared, casting a spell upon them—a tranquil stupor fell over the villagers. "It should never have happened because the true culprit behind King Tevenot's death was not caught. The servant," she added, "was innocent. The blood of a killer was not spilled. All that was spilled was the blood of a sinless boy, while the true murderer is free."

She took a deep breath, straightening her spine and preparing herself for what she was about to say. Once the words were spoken, they could not be undone.

"It was our new king," Maarit stated, "Theodoracius, who killed his father. Theodoracius poisoned his father and took the throne. And I know this," Maarit continued, pausing to take a breath for a moment, "because I am a soothsayer, and I foresaw this through a vision."

The audience was still silent, but they appeared to be struggling against the spell that Maarit had placed them under. She made sure not to look at Helios or Keion, so as not to see the fear in their eyes.

"We are inclined to believe that servants are the wrongdoers and are always to blame," Maarit boomed, "but King Tevenot often claimed his son to be troublesome. He knew what his son was—a vile, loathsome man, unfit to rule our country. We must take action; for if we do not, King Theodoracius will rule ruthlessly and kill anyone who expresses an opinion that opposes him. I have also foreseen the murder of many innocent people. We must stop this man before he silences us."

When Maarit stopped talking and lifted the silencing spell, pandemonium broke out.