“Not only is Hamilton gone,” said Hector, “but the Rod fragment is gone now, as well. Now we’ll never get what we’re after.” He'll find his way to me, he thought. As I once found him. In the Desert of Thieves, the ancient war-ground between the LaBelles and thieves. How fitting that I should take one of their own as they once took one of mine.
Brutus and Rashek followed behind Hector, as they made their way towards the massive city of Shamsake. It was daytime and Hector seemed to gather energy from the sight.
“You don’t suppose there’s any other treasure hidden in Shamsake, sir?” asked Rashek.
“That is a good question, Rashek,” replied Hector with a smile on his face. “Back to Shamsake, it is. A trio may not be the same as our quartet, but it’s better than nothing, no?”
Chapter 20: The Fight for Liberation
Outside the walls of Ganwin strode Ing. A guard was posted outside the gate to the South entrance of the town, leaving him feeling as if he was expected. As Ing approached, the guard raised his bamboo rod and prepared to battle him. It was already filled with the deadly Spidree poison; paralysis would consume Ing if he allowed the foul liquid to touch his skin.
Ing unsheathed his sword and deftly cut the bamboo rod clean in half. The guard screamed in pain and fury as one half hit him dead in the face. Ing kicked the man hard in the stomach and he flew to the ground, writhing in pain. Ing recognized the guard; it was one who was with Salkar the night his mother died.
Without stopping, Ing cut the gate vertically down the center and kicked it open. Several arrows were fired in his direction as he came inside the walls of his old home, but a man jumped in front of him and blocked all of them with a large oak staff.
“I decided this task was a little too great for you to take on by yourself. I hope you accept my decision to join you.”
It was Erste.
“It’s good to see you again,” said Ing, smiling.
Erste knocked a guard down to the ground to his left while Ing slashed one of the guard’s necks at his right. Blood spewed out of the wound and splattered onto the dirt road.
A guard coming up from behind soaked his bamboo rod in his jar and got ready to strike Erste. Fortunately for Erste, a man coming up from behind threw a dagger through the guard’s back.
“I’m with the rebels,” the man announced proudly. Twenty or so more rebels came running out into the streets. “I knew the time would come for our liberation. I must warn you: there is something not quite right about that royal priest, Salkar. I believe he has been part of some conspiracy for many years now, waiting for the time to take over. I believe that Oxen Mollish is just a pawn in all this.”
Erste gave a nod to the man and turned to his nephew. “Go now to the castle, Ing. I’ll help the rebels out in the streets.”
Ing sped through the familiar streets up to the castle in the dead center of Ganwin. It was the castle that had once been a symbol of hope to the people—the place where King Galfer and his fathers before him had ruled.
The rebels and Erste kept the guards at bay. When Ing reached the castle, he was relieved to find that no guards were waiting for him. They must have all been in the streets, fighting off the rebel forces. From outside the castle doors, Ing could hear someone shouting inside. It sounded like they said that someone was coming. Ing thought it must have been Salkar. He would surely recognize the voice of the royal priest who had stood at Galfer’s side.
Ing opened the large, iron doors and went inside the castle. He caught a glimpse of Salkar running off wildly down the right hallway.
Sitting at the throne was the tyrant responsible for warping the town. He gazed at Ing for several moments before speaking. This is the boy Salkar spoke of, thought Oxen. Ing Roan, the son of Selenia who was killed by Horace Horn. There is a deep anger in his eyes. He holds me responsible. I am the king. Therefore, he sees the guard's actions tracing back to me. I should have been more careful. I should have ruled the people differently, not used so much force. Now we will see what shall come of my actions. “You must be Ing Roan,” said Oxen Mollish gruffly. “You seek to kill me for the death of your mother.” For the death of your king and the suffering of your people, he thought. The king’s voice rang loudly throughout the palace.
“I will certainly try,” said Ing. “It is you who are responsible for the destruction of my home, the death of my mother and the fear that has overcome the people. I cannot forgive you for your treachery. You transformed a place of peace into a place of despair and struggle. And to rule Ganwin isn’t your birthright, the throne belongs to the line of Weddir.” Ing was referring to the surname of the late king.
“I did what I saw I had to in order to quell the rebel forces that were rising up,” replied the king. That is a lie, thought Oxen. I know that is not true. “I couldn’t let the town fall into chaos. You are young, but you must understand that.”
“That’s a lie,” said Ing, his anger mounting. “And you know very well, the only reason the rebels were made was because of your tyranny.”
The king didn't know what
