“It hasn’t even been long since the Human-Fiend War. And yet you still stirred unrest among the aristocracy, nearly brought about an insurrection, and plotted to overthrow Felind royalty, Count Guerrera?”
“I…” Barbatos’s voice was as weak as the whine of a mosquito. “I…was not planning anything of the sort…”
“Then what’s this letter?” King Randolf held the proof that I’d handed him.
“…”
“I’ve been cautious about your recent activities, but hadn’t received any confirmation of illicit indulgences until a few days ago. You were using the Welger Company to build supplies for war, and bolstering your troops, as well. It seems the Welger Company even hoped to seize control of the Duchy of Bardenhawk. Had either of you succeeded, the other would have had the backing of a powerful ally.”
“That’s…”
Although the plot sounded trivial when said out loud, Barbatos had put a great deal of effort into his preparations.
“The Welger Company’s master was using me…”
“Oh, he was, huh?” Randolf threw me a look.
“They have a mutually beneficial relationship… Or rather, they did,” I replied.
King Randolf turned his eyes back to Barbatos. “I thought long and hard on how it ever came to this, Count Guerrera. Yet I couldn’t conjure an answer. I suppose that was to be expected. I don’t understand how an egotistical aristocrat focused solely on his own ambitions thinks.”
“Y-you! You expect the nobility to be too moral! There were many other lords sympathetic to my endeavors…”
King Randolf looked like he might reply but decided against it. Perhaps he was worried Barbatos’s claim was true. To bring the aristocracy’s injustices to light for the sake of the common people, he had to rein in those nobles who acted outside the law.
People like Barbatos were, more or less, the equivalent of kings in their fiefs. And unsurprisingly, most of them took offense at even the slightest restriction to their freedom.
Barbatos howled as he raised his head, “The only reason the nobles follow you—reluctantly, I might add—is because of Princess Almelia! You have neither the influence nor the charisma to reign over—”
I approached Barbatos and gave him a hard punch in the face. He let out a strange groan as he flew away, rolled along the audience chamber floor, and hit the far wall before coming to a stop.
“Don’t you dare blame someone else for your actions, Barbatos Guerrera. Your plan has failed.” I slowly approached him, continuing, “A great number of soldiers and innocent people were nearly sent to their deaths. You were about to take their normalcy away from them and their families. You deserve to die.”
I grabbed Barbatos, who was now missing a few teeth, by the collar and shoved him against the wall.
“Now I’m going to tell you what I think. That man there isn’t king simply because he’s Almelia’s father. Remember that. Don’t insult my friend.”
Apparently, I’d roughed Barbatos up more than I’d intended. He was kicking his feet, which were no longer touching the ground. I threw him back to his original spot on the floor.
“Count Guerrera, we will pursue the matter and give you our decision. In the meantime, you may wait…in prison.”
King Randolf motioned with his chin, and soldiers standing at the entrance grabbed Barbatos under the armpits to lead him away.
“E-even if you kill me, this country is already at the center of a maelstrom.”
“Shut up.” I gave Barbatos a heavy blow to the stomach with my fist. I felt one of his ribs break.
He slumped over, and the king’s guards hauled him off.
The next day, it was decided that Barbatos Guerrera was to be executed in public, surrounded by the masses.
News immediately spread of the loss of his noble station and the seizure of his lands.
The events leading to his death later came to be called the Sandor Incident, named after the town they had primarily occurred in. Barbatos Guerrera’s own name would forever be recorded in history as that of a traitorous felon.
After Barbatos Guerrera was thrown in jail, before his execution, I paid a visit to King Randolf’s private chambers.
“Do you not understand the general concept of knocking?” he asked, looking quite exasperated.
“Why bother with that now? I’ve already come in several times without knocking.”
“That you have.” King Randolf grinned as he sat on a sofa.
The hour had already grown late, and it was dark outside. I sat on the opposite sofa, the low table between us. He called a servant and had them bring in distilled liquor and glasses.
“I won’t be staying long,” I told him.
“Oh, don’t be like that.”
I poured the amber liquid from the bottle into the glasses.
“You’re surprisingly delicate, King Randolf. A little slander is really enough to depress you?” I remarked casually, which brought a smile to King Randolf’s face, though it was self-derisive.
“I’ve been considering the idea myself lately. Almelia is actually a large influence. There is some credence to the idea that her authority as the hero keeps the aristocrats’ dissatisfaction at bay.”
We each sipped our drinks, hardly more than sampling the alcohol’s taste.
“Of course they’re unhappy. You’ve started tightening their leashes. They want the carrot, not the stick.”
“Roland, what would you do in my situation?” King Randolf questioned.
“I have no idea what an aristocrat would consider a carrot,” I answered. “I think you need to consider that on your own. As for Barbatos…will he be the only one to be executed?”
“Mm-hmm. That is the plan.”
“You’ll need to off more of them or you’ll be sorry later. Keeping them alive is risky. You should crush them now.”
“He has no children, and even if the rest of his family despises me, I know I’ve done no wrong. If someone seeks revenge for my decision to mete out justice, then I will accept it as it comes.”
King Randolf took out Barbatos’s letter, and set it on a low table cast in moonlight. Its hidden text appeared.
“Destroying Felind…and the plans to do so, I see… We’ve only just achieved peace. How he came up with such a deranged idea, I’ll never know.”
To change the subject, I asked, “How is Almelia? I haven’t seen her lately.”
“My dear daughter has left the castle for the orphanage. She is its director, after all.”
“I see. At the end of the hearing, Barbatos claimed that chaos would descend on the kingdom regardless of his execution. It sounded as though he was prepared for that to happen. I never asked him myself, but I take it the plans mentioned in his letter involved getting rid of Almelia.”
We would likely need to torture it out of Barbatos.
“Killing my daughter? Can you think of anyone capable of such a thing besides yourself?”
“There’s a high likelihood that Amy is on Barbatos’s side.”
“Impossible!” King Randolf returned his glass to the table.
I explained my suspicions to him.
“…So you assume she saw you at the underground arena. She’s one of the few who knows your skill and false aliases. I see… Amy… That name takes me back. I never associated with her much myself.”