Self-Inflicted Destruction

Lord Robert sat with his four knights, suppressing the urge to explode after hearing their idiotic and feeble justifications for their failures in battle. The kingdom of Ubernacht, of which Robert was overlord was smaller than all of those around them, while sitting on the largest veins of gold in their singular mountain that stood just behind the castle. Ubernacht was one kingdom among many, of which King John of Aquitaine ruled, usually with much patience but often with high expectations.

Lord Robert’s kingdom stood at the edge of the King John’s land, partially surrounded by others faithful to King John but his western border backed up against the kingdom of Altrecht, ruled by the remarkably cunning King Luxor, a man with the incredible gift of monolog, dialog, and wordsmithing, one with whom no one wanted to interact as he had the ability to twist and contort the words of his opponents, often manipulating the words of King John to seem as if the two of them were in agreement.

Lord Robert rose from his seat, cleared his throat and called for the room to be cleared, needing several moments to document all that had just been told to him, needing silence to grumble to himself, and form a plan on how to respond to King Luxor’s latest attack against his western border. Knight Justus had described the battle between him and army against King Luxor and what seemed to be a collection of knights and lords from kingdoms further west. He argued that the top knights that worked directly with King John were at the battle, merely observing it seemed.

As the door clicked closed behind the last knight to leave the conference room, Lord Robert paced the space between his library and his throne, grumbling and confused as to King John’s possible rationale for simply allowing the enemy to oppress them without response. “This makes no sense,” he said to himself over and over, beginning to consider the possibility that Knight Justus had merely fabricated a story to cover his own laziness and lack of military prowess.

He dropped himself into his throne to be immediately interrupted by a messenger bursting through the main door, shouting about the sighting of a dragon on the western border. The young man, breathing heavily, swore with everything in him that he personally had seen the creature drop down from the sky at the edge of the western forest. “Send in another messenger,” Lord Robert shouted, “I need to send a message to King John.” The young man hurried from the room to be quickly replaced by another, carrying a small scroll, a writing utensil and an inkwell.

The new young man sat down at the table and noted everything that Lord Robert said in his message. “King John, I have just received a report that a dragon has entered our land, crossing the western border, please send help immediately, your faithful servant, Lord Robert.” 

              “Go, young man, hurry to the king’s castle, we have no time to waste,” he said, “a dragon loose among our villages is nearly impossible to stop or defeat.” The young man pocketed the inkwell and the writing utensil, blowing on the scroll as he hurried from the room, running north as fast as he dared, not wanting to exhaust himself too quickly, as he had many miles to cover before arriving at the king’s castle.

              As soon as the messenger departed from his presence, he called for another to gather all of his knights into the town square, in order to prepare for the confrontation that would probably happen sooner than he thought. Within the hour his entire military had joined him on the steps of the castle, all knowing why they were there but fearing for their safety and the safety of their loved ones scattered across the land of Ubernacht. Lord Robert began with clarifying the reason for the meeting was obvious, as a dragon had entered the land. “I will be calling on all of the men in the land of Ubernacht to join you in this fight, for without enough weapons in able hands, we will surely lose this battle. I have sent a request to King John to send more help and am still awaiting an answer.”

              Messengers were dispersed as Lord Robert and his mediocre army waited on the steps of the castle and within four hours men from across the kingdom began trickling into the town square, to be almost immediately followed by a messenger from King John, bearing a disappointing and deflating message. “King John has spoken,” the messenger said, “he will be sending no assistance to you in this matter, for you have never proven yourself faithful or able in any matter he has requested of you. You must put to use the skills and tools that he has provided over the many years to win this battle yourself.”

              The messenger then quickly departed through the northern gate through which he had just entered, leaving Lord Robert and his army in disbelief. He looked over the ridiculously small army before him, as well as the even smaller group of men from throughout the village, knowing full well that victory would not be theirs to enjoy, as a dragon was a threat that few could address. He motioned for Knight Justus to approach and entrusted him to draw up a plan with the few men that were available.

              Overcome with despair, he watched his army, and the handful of locals disappear through the western gate with a considerable cache of weapons, very little armor, and a few horses. He called for another messenger to work through the land and bring everyone from the surrounding villages and farms into the main city, knowing that women and children would be helpless in the face of invaders, if and most likely when his army failed in their confrontation of the dragon. He knew within his bones that King Luxor was the source of this invasion.

              The first day passed without report from the battle, then the second day and the third day, until finally a messenger arrived from Knight Justus that the dragon had been wounded, no longer able to fly, as Knight Justus himself had severed one of its wings. He also reported that over half of the army and nearly all of the men from the village had been killed or terribly injured.

              Lord Robert then gathered the few teenage boys that were scattered throughout the main city, arming them with bow and arrows, swords, and spears, trusting that the walls of the city would provide enough protection for when King Luxor’s army was sure to arrive. Frustrated at his now hopeless situation, he drafted another message to King John, rife with complaints, disappointment, and pleas for help to be sent. Three more days passed by, and he received no response, grumbling to himself that the mightiest king in all of the lands on this mighty continent failed to fulfill his duty of protection.

               Three more days passed, and messengers arrived from the western border than King Luxor had slaughtered the remaining few knights and would be at the castle before nightfall. Lord Robert gathered all of the women and children into the castle, barricading all of the doors and windows, gathering as much food and weapons before the arrival of the pending destruction that could not be stopped. He spoke words of encouragement to the handful of teenage boys who guarded the three entrances, who stood atop the wall, armed with the little they had. He could see the terror in their faces, knowing that he was asking far too much from those who had no experience in warfare.

              As darkness began to fall, his queen pulled him to a side room, and severely chastised him for his failure, his lack of foresight, his refusal to learn from his previous mistakes, and his stubborn response to the use of the tools and knowledge given to him from King John. He admitted to her that she was correct in her assessment of him, and that she needed to go among the women and children and encourage them as only she knew how, while he stood at the window watching the army of King Luxor overpower the young boys and break through the main gate.

              It was only a matter of thirty minutes before he watched everything that he had proudly worked for come to an end, with flames devouring it all, sickened at the thought of what Luxor’s army would do with a castle full of women and children, knowing the destruction and enslavement would be their reality in the next hour.

Peering through the small window looking out over the town square, he could hear the castle entrance being breached, the screams of the women and children, and the door of his private chamber knocked from its hinges. Overpowered by four Luxor soldiers, he watched himself be dragged from the building to be tied between four horses and slowly pulled into five pieces, a slow, agonizing dismemberment, as each limb was slowly pulled from its socket, to then be ripped from his torso. At that moment, the only thing he could think of was the inevitable enslavement that his wife, his daughters, and the women and children from the village would face. He breathed his last with a prayer for lives to be, at the least, bearable.