Louie the Lame

King Louis leans out of his carriage to get a better look at the carnage.

Dozens of Naxon soldier’s corpses hang from poles erected along the ruddy, war-torn road.

King Louis pinches his nose to lessen the stench of rotting flesh.

“Is this your work, General Pendre?”

The bulky general with a scar on his left cheek strokes his pointed beard.

“We needed to intimidate the enemy. The Naxons were very determined, fearless warriors. To break the spirit of a barbarian, you have to act like one.”

The King and his three generals ride in silence for several minutes until they reach the smoldering remains of a church. A second church farther up the road burns out of control. A group of peasants stands by in helpless horror as it collapses.

“Is it true, General Latorche, that you burned down churches while the partitioners were still praying inside?”

The one-armed, bald general adjusts his monocle.

“Our intelligence determined they were occupied by Naxon sympathizers, sire.”

King Louis studies General Nicholas Vauban’s blank expression. Angelic in his appearance, with shoulder-length blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and a firm physique, Nicholas is the kingdom’s youngest and most respected general in the Arbanon army.

“You have been modest about your accomplishments during the war, General Vauban.”

“I do not consider it an accomplishment to have conducted mass slaughter, your grace.”

“But you did it in Arbanon’s name. You are a hero.”

“I do not feel heroic. There is a pit several miles from your father’s castle containing a hundred dead rebel peasants. We shot them, the old, children, and women, and they were buried immediately. Some of them were still alive.”

“You saved Arbanon. You defeated Prince Rudolph’s army and drove his followers out. You restored the monarchy and saved my castle…”

“It could not have been done without collateral damage, Nicholas,” Pendre says.

The carriage comes to a halt in Castle Cerdan’s courtyard. Exiting the carriage, King Louis sighs at the sight of the collapsed walls, shell holes, and scattered debris.

“Home again.”

“Do not lament, sire. Castle Cerdan’s restoration is well on its way,” Latorche says. “You have the important task of restoring law and order.”

                                               ***

King Louis looks up at cannons stationed on the cliffs near Castle Cerdan. The guns are pointed at Captain Hans Jodl’s ship, the Terror.

King Louis and his generals gather on the Terror’s deck. King Louis can barely contain his joy, smiling broadly as Jodl picks up the pen. Jodl’s hand remains poised over the surrender document as he reads it for the third time.

His skin tanned and creased from years at sea, the bulky, bearded Captain is the highest-ranking remaining member of the Naxon military.

“Fitting that the man who killed my father and damaged Castle Cerdan is now at our mercy,” King Louis says to Nicholas. “It is a shame the terms of surrender include allowing him to live.”

Jodl grimaces as he signs the document. He moves to shake the General’s hands. Eugene Latorche gives Jodl a limp handshake, then looks at his hand as if it were covered in dung. Andre Pendre stiffens, refusing to shake Yodl’s hand. Nicholas shakes Jodl’s hand, and the two men salute each other.

Jodl gives King Louis a disrespectful smirk, refusing to bow.

“Insolence, even in defeat, Jodl,” King Louis says.

“My greatest regret is that the shell that tore your father apart spared you.”

                                               ***

“You would think he had won the war,” King Louis sneers as they watch the Terror leave the dock.

“Captain Jodl is a proud and brave man,” Nicholas comments.

“Then why is he still a Captain?” King Louis asks.

“Jodl offered our men a chance to surrender and abandon their ships before he sank them. He took prisoners. His fellow officers refused to.”

“He’s going to regret insulting me and killing my father.”

King Louis waves his scepter.

The cannons fire in unison. Dozens of shells hit the Terror, turning the ship into an inferno.

Two of the Terror’s cannons fire back in defiance. The shells obliterate the tower containing the King’s chambers.

“My poor castle!” Louis laments.

An explosion rips the Terror apart. When the thick grey smoke clears, all that remains of the Terror is splintered wood and a few scorched flags.

“That was a risky move, Your Majesty,” Nicholas says. “We are still sorting out which peasants were loyal to the crown during the war and who supported Prince Rudolph. If the Terror had escaped, Jodl would have spread the word that you had reneged on the peace agreement. He could have started a rebellion.”

“It would have taken a miracle for Jodl to elude sixty cannons,” King Louis replies. “Besides, Admiral Pottier has six frigates stationed at the mouth of the river. Now, we will deal with the traitor who plunged us into war.”

                                               ***

King Louis squirms uneasily on the throne, surveying the concerned crowd of generals, knights, and noblemen.

Nicholas stands by his side.

Nicholas studies the short, red-haired, freckled, reed-thin fifteen-year-old monarch, noting that Louis’ hands are shaking and his feet, which don’t reach the floor, are swaying haphazardly back and forth.

“May I offer some advice on governing, Your Majesty?”

“I welcome it.”

“Move forward, plant your feet firmly on the ground, and wrap your hands around the arms of the throne for support. Then clear your throat and speak with authority. Shall we begin?”

A nearby guard blows a trumpet. Vexor, the court’s former mage, is brought into the throne room in chains.

No one has seen Vexor since the war between Arbanon and Naxon ended three months ago. Vexor’s dark beard now has flecks of grey, and his once sturdy frame is threadlike, but his coal-black, hypnotic stare has lost none of its intimidating luster.

Vexor betrayed Arbanon by backing Prince Rudolph of Naxon’s attempt to conquer neighboring Arbanon. Rudolph promised Vexor that he could rule Arbanon once Naxon took control of the country. Vexor railed groups of peasants chaffing under King Wallace’s tight-fisted rule to join in a war against their own people. The mage then created a potion that made Rudolph’s smaller army invincible for ten hours. The Naxon’s conquered most of the countryside, their army and Arbanon sympathizers trapping King Wallace in his castle. But Nicholas’s soldiers held off Rudolph’s men at the castle gates long enough for the potion to wear off. Joined by Generals Pendre and Latorche and their soldiers, the Arbanon troops routed the Naxon invaders. On his deathbed, King Wallace made Louis promise that no harm would come to the mage who had served him faithfully for thirty years and made the mistake of lusting for power.

Louis looks away from Vexor’s malevolent stare.

“That crown does not fit you, boy.”

“My father made me promise to spare you, and I will, so long as you tell me where Prince Rudolph is hiding.”

“Your father’s soft heart was always his greatest fault, even more than your soft head,” Vexor returns. “That is why your people call you Louie the Lame.”

“Keep a civil tongue, wizard, or I will have it cut out,” King Louis says.

Vexor huffs. “Put a crown on a boy’s head, and he thinks he’s a man.”

Nicholas grabs Vexor by the throat. “Where is he?”

“Perhaps he lies in an unmarked mass grave with his soldiers and his Arbanon supporters. Maybe I cast him into the ether to protect him. Perhaps he has fled to the far reaches of the world to gather more troops to overthrow you.”

“You will need leverage against Vexor to make him speak,” Pendre advises.

“He has a little girl,” Latorche adds. 

“I do not wish to involve a child.”

“You were a child, too, until a few months ago,” Latorche replies. “Today, you are a man, a king, and you must rule like one.”

Louis looks into Vexor’s mocking stare. “If you do not tell me where Prince Rudolph is, your daughter will burn alongside you tomorrow at dawn.”

                                               ***

The sun begins to rise over the horizon. King Louis looks grimly at Vexor and his eight-year-old daughter, Delphine, who are firmly tied to stakes in the courtyard. In addition to the King’s court, hundreds of curious villagers watch as Louis says, “Tell me where Prince Rudolph is hiding. Tell me, for Delphine’s sake.”

“Say nothing, Papa,” Delphine says defiantly.

“You cannot burn a child, your grace,” Nicholas says.

“Watch me.”

Pendre strokes his beard. “Today’s innocent child is tomorrow's full-grown enemy,”

“Burn them!” Latorche yells, and the crowd chants in condemnation with him.

King Louis waves his hand, looking away.

Two guards holding torches touch off the piles of straw beneath the stakes.

Delphine screams as the flames begin to lick at her legs.

“Be brave, girl. Remember, a mage never truly dies…,” Vexor says. “I curse you, King Louie the Lame… I curse your court, your generals, and their families… Let the river deliver my vengeance!”

Delphine screams wretchedly as her burnt flesh slides off her bones.

A dense fog engulfs the courtyard. When it dissipates, Vexor is gone.

                                               ***

A week later, Nicholas and his attaché, Captain Claude Provost, watch King Louis and the court’s new mage, Lara, conduct an animated conversation on the parapet.

Claude may be ten years younger than Nicholas, but the strain of the Naxon War has turned his hair grey and stooped his short stature.

Lara flips back her waist-length hair, laughing giddily.

“Is she flirting with him?” Claude wonders.

“It’s never too early to get on the line to be Queen,” Nicholas replies.

Claude groans. “If she gains his favor, we will be under the command of children.”

“I think Lara will be an asset,” Nicholas replies. “She is more cunning than her seventeen years suggests.”

King Louis turns toward them, yelling, “Something strange is happening to the river!”

An enormous ball of fog moves up the river.

A sailing ship shrouded in black emerges, drifting close to the shoreline. A crew of men, their clothes as pitch black as the ship, stand on the deck, their bottomless eyes focused on the parapet.

King Louis’ skinny frame shivers. “I do not like the look of those men.”

“The ship flies the colors of the House of Latorche,” Claude notes.

“Is General Latorche still in the castle?” Nicholas asks.

“He’s having breakfast with his staff.”

“Tell him to report to the King immediately and bring a spyglass!”

As Claude dashes off, King Louis asks, “Do you think Latorche is rebelling against me?”

“If he is, he will be the first prisoner we take.”

King Louis gasps. “That man in the beard and cap is staring at me!”

“You are wearing a rather conspicuous crown, Your Majesty,” Lara points out.

King Louis yanks the crown off his head, tossing it to a bewildered Lara.

A breathless Latorche reaches the parapet, followed by Claude.

He salutes King Louis with his remaining arm.

“What manner of treason is this, General?” King Louis demands.

“I do not understand, Your Majesty…”

“That ship! Do you intend to fire upon my castle to get me to abdicate?”

“No! I have nothing to do with that ship!”

“It flies your family’s flag.”

“A calculated move to get you to lose favor in me, Your Majesty.”

“It is working, Latorche.”

Claude hands King Louis a spyglass. Louis looks at the ship, shivering.

“It is the Terror! And Jodl is standing on the deck! He is alive! Vexor’s curse has come true!”

Nicholas looks through the spyglass. “There is movement on board.”

The crewmen lift several objects covered in canvas onto the deck.

They unravel the canvases, revealing the severely burned bodies of a woman and two children.

Nicholas hands Latorche the spyglass. His remaining arm shakes as he looks at the bodies.

“That is my wife! My children! I left them at home only hours ago! Permission to be excused, Your Majesty!”

Without waiting for a response, Latorche bolts toward the exit.

“I think Latorche plotted with Vexor to kill me,” Louis says. “But once a traitor, always a traitor. It appears Vexor has double-crossed the General and kidnapped his family. Murderers do not tell the truth.”

“Your Majesty is learning quickly,” Nicholas returns. Turning to Claude, he says, “Get a detail of men and follow Latorche, but do it discreetly.”

A dense fog rolls in, obscuring their view of the Terror.

“If those men are here to overthrow me. I want to see them. Can you lift the fog, Lara?”

Closing her eyes, Lara chants, “Flare, Ventus!”

A strong gust of wind blows the fog away. When the sky clears, the Terror is gone.

                                               ***

Spotting smoke above the trees, Claude and the soldiers push their horses, speeding to General Latorche’s house. The two-story villa is engulfed in flames.

Coughing, his uniform and face smudged, Latorche stumbles out of the blaze carrying his son. Laying his son’s lifeless body in the grass next to his daughter, he staggers back toward the house.

Claude steps in front of him. “You cannot go back in there! It is an inferno! You will be killed!”

Latorche gags, coughing out, “My wife is still in there!”

“Then let me send some of my men in.”

“No. It is my responsibility.”

“…Please, General…”

“I have to answer for what I have done.”

Latorche disappears behind a veil of fire and smoke.

Moments later, the house collapses.

                                               ***

The following day, Nicholas and Claude watch the sunrise.

“Eugene Latorche burned hundreds of helpless partitioners to death and died in a fire…”

“Some would call that justice,” Claude replies.

“True. Unfortunately, we are not in a position to advocate such an ironic point of view. If Latorche’s family was not actually on board the Terror, then what we saw was an omen.”

“Do you think the Terror will return?” Claude asks.

“We will know very soon.”

King Louis and Lara rush onto the parapet.

Louis shivers. “Please tell me it is not happening again.”

A ball of fog forms over the river.

The swirling mist takes on the form of the Terror.

“They are flying white flags with a gold cross,” Claude says.

“That is a crucifix, and it is part of General Pendre’s coat of arms,” Nicholas notes.

Captain Jodl points to the hold. Two crewmen open it.

A heavyset woman, her face a mask of tears, emerges.

The crewmen guide her to the Terror’s mainmast.

A crewman holding a rope climbs the mast. He ties the rope to the mast and throws it down to Jodl, who fashions a noose.

Pleading for mercy, the woman is placed on a tall crate.

“Who is that woman?” Louis asks.

“Pendre’s wife, Josette. Claude, you and I are riding to the General’s villa.”

The quartet winces as Captain Jodl kicks the crate away. King Louis covers his eyes as Josette’s body dances wildly, her eyes bulging and her face turning pale.

The Terror disappears behind a wall of fog when Josette takes her last breath.

                                               ***

Nicholas and Claude find the door to General Pendre’s home open. His aide, Maurice, is pacing back and forth, crying, and muttering to himself.

Seeing Nicholas and Claude, he shrieks, “Thank God you are here! We came back from fox hunting, laughing, expecting to have lunch with Josette. We found her in the greenhouse… She was… hanging from a rafter, her neck broken, her face a ghostly shade of white… I sent the maid to fetch her family… When I went back to the greenhouse…”

Maurice sways, fainting.

Nicholas and Claude carry Maurice to a couch.

Nicholas calls out General Pendre’s name as they head to the greenhouse.

They freeze in the doorway.

Pendre’s body hangs next to Josette’s.

                                               ***

King Louis looks down from the parapet at the cannons lined along the river’s edge. “A volley of shells from sixty cannons should send that ghost ship back to the netherworld.”

Nicholas and Lara pass concerned looks.

Claude surveys the horizon. “Almost dawn. Any second now.”

A ball of fog envelops the river.

The Terror emerges farther away from shore than before, making it harder to discern Captain Jodl and his crew's actions.

King Louis looks at the ship through a spyglass. He clutches at his throat, so frightened he can scarcely utter, “…The flags... The Terror is flying my family’s coat of arms…”

Louis shakes as he signals for the cannons to fire. Dozens of shells hit the Terror but are absorbed into its shadowy hull. They tear through the sails, which instantly knit themselves together again.

The cannons continue to fire until they are shrouded in smoke, and the smell of gunpowder fills the air.

Claude receives a message from the riverfront. “Captain Moreau says our guns are running out of ammunition.”

“Have the men fall back to the castle,” Nicholas orders.

“And leave their artillery behind?”

“We will need them to protect the King.”

Nicholas points at the river.

The Terror’s rowboats are heading toward the shore.