Thursday, May 16, 2013

3. My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.


     “This is uniquely fitting for you, Henry,” I smiled.  “You always kept yourself in the spotlight, while you locked me in a tower.  Not very much fun, is it?”  My half-brother glared at me.
     “You’re not going to get away with this,” he warned confidently.  “I’m the true king!  Someone will remember me, and when I get loose, you’ll be the one in the cell.”
     “You have to get out first,” I said tauntingly.  I stepped forward, almost within his reach.  “You’re chained.  This cell used to be a cave; it’s solid stone for dozens of feet.  The door is iron; only I have the key.  This is the deepest cell, so nobody will come along here except for the gaoler, who is half-blind and deaf as a post. Besides, he only speaks Skordian, which you don’t understand.” I could see Henry’s defiance become a little feigned, and I smiled wider.
     “Even assuming you get out, there is only one exit from the dungeons, which leads through the guardhouse.  You’d have to fight your way past, oh, 30 men at any given time?  That’s not even counting the men on guard at the wall or at the gate.”  I laughed.  “I’m afraid you’re going to be here for a very long time.”  He spat at me, and I locked the door behind me as I left him alone in the blackness.
     He was there for a long time.  Years, in fact.  But not forever.  One of my guards was careless when locking up a thief, and the man got loose and hid in the depths of my dungeon.  He discovered my brother, and picked all of the locks to get him out of the cell.  Henry and the thief simply overpowered two guards on patrol, stole their uniforms, and walked out of the castle without anyone being the wiser.  
     True to his word, Henry gathered his scattered supporters, rallied the common folk against me, and returned to claim his throne.  While his men tried to take the  walls and guards, he and a group of his best fighters came directly into the main part of the castle.  We came face to face in my throne room.
     “I’m here to keep my promise,” he told me, drawing his sword.  I flicked my own sword up to meet his gaze.  “You’ll spend the rest of your miserable life in that cell.”  I grinned viciously, knowing that he was the glue that held the rebellion together.  If he died...
     “The years haven’t been kind to you, brother,” I taunted.  “You’re looking a little scrawny.”  His imprisonment hadn’t changed him that much--he was still the vainest person I knew, and my comments stung his pride.  He attacked, and I smiled.  I’d spend the years getting stronger and faster, and he’d weakened.  He was slower than I was now, so it was easy to dodge his blow.
     “You’ll pay for what you did,” he growled, chopping down at me.
     “I doubt that,” I said, and counterattacked.  It wasn’t easy, but I was never really worried.  Everyone, rebels and guards alike, stood around us, watching our fight; they knew of the ritual combat for the throne.  I turned and twisted until I managed to maneuver him into a corner.  He fought twice as hard, of course, but I didn’t let that bother me.  He became tired and I shoved my blade in between his defences.  He gasped as I sliced open his hand, and he instinctively dropped his sword.  
     “An honorable opponent would allow me to pick up my sword and continue,” he said cautiously.  I snorted.
     “Put your hands on your head and start walking,” I said, kicking his sword out of the way.  My guards surrounded the rebels and ushered them out into the main courtyard as I forced Henry at sword-point to the center of the stone area.  I prodded him in the back.
     “What?” he said hostilely.
     “Get on your knees and tell them to stop fighting,” I ordered him.  Helplessly, he obeyed.  Slowly, his men were gathered into a group in front of me.  Corpses littered the ground; with irritation, I noticed that my men hadn’t fared as well as the rebels.  However, they weren’t fighting now that Henry was under my control.  
     “Take these men into custody, Captain,” I said.  The captain of my guard stepped forward, sporting bruises down the side of his face, and directed squads of soldiers to gather their weapons and bind their wrists.  It took a long time, but I was perfectly willing to wait.  
     “Is the blacksmith here?” I demanded eventually, looking at the crowd surrounding me.  A soldier ran off, returning seconds later with a large man in a leather apron.  
     “Yes, your Imperial Majesty?” said the blacksmith.  
     “These men have rebelled against my rule,” I said clearly so that everybody would hear my words.  “It is within my rights to have them executed in any way I choose, but although they deserve death, I have decided to allow them to live.”  I saw the large group of prisoners relax, and Henry sighed in relief.  
     “However, they cannot simply be allowed to return to their homes and their families without consequences,” I said.  “Blacksmith, I wish them all to be branded.”  It was a punishment that made its victims into second-class citizens.  They no longer were allowed to enter shops or taverns, and a second offence of any kind meant that they would be executed.  The punishment had only been used a few times in the last 50 years due to its severity.
     “As your Imperial  Majesty commands,” said the blacksmith slowly.
     “You can’t do that, Adrienna!” burst out Henry.  I glared, and my captain slapped him across the face, silencing him.
     “As for you,” I said poisonously.  “You know what happens now, right?  Speak!”  Despair crossed his face.  He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.
     “I’m going back to that cell,” he said finally.  I laughed.  Of course not.  I would not make the same mistake twice.
     “I’m afraid that’s not quite right,” I said.  “You see, many of my guards were killed in your little rebellion.  A price must be paid.”  With one powerful thrust, I stabbed my sword into his heart.  I spat on it, then walked back towards my throne room.
     “The corpse, your Majesty?” said the captain tentatively.
     “Burn the body.  Have the head displayed by the gates,” I said coldly, not stopping.  

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

2. My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through


How are we going to get out of this?” Roald despaired.  “They’ll get through the barricade in a few minutes.”
“Don’t panic,” said Rose quickly.  “What about the window?”  Roald flung it open, but groaned as he saw the ground 30 feet below them.
“We can’t jump, we’d break our legs,” he said.  
“How about up?” she asked.  
“No good,” he said.  “The wall’s sheer.  We could never climb that.”
“Is there anything in here?” she asked.  Roald scanned the room, and in the top right corner of the the he spotted a large vent.  
“The air ducts!” he said.  “Hurry!”  He flung himself over and boosted his sister up to reach it.  She pulled out her laser-cutter and sliced the metal away with ease.  The grating fell away, and she reached up, only to pull down in sadness.  
“It’s too small,” she said pointlessly, as Roald could also see how the vent narrowed. “We’re stuck.”  The door was smoking, and I watched them gleefully through the security camera as my guards piled into the room.
We give up,” said Roald hopelessly, going down on his knees with his hands up.  As I saw them captured and beaten for trying to escape, I smiled.  I knew that remodeling those ducts had been a good idea!

Monday, May 6, 2013

1. My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear Plexiglas visors, not face-concealing ones


“With respect, great one,” said Jakeor.  “The new design is so much more menacing than the old ones.”  I considered both designs for a moment.
“What sort of tests have you put the new one through?” I asked.
“Well, they’re bulletproof,” Jakeor said, “and...uh...the neck guard provides support for their head if something crashes down on them, like a rock.  Within reason, of course!  The visor is large enough to keep their vision completely unobstructed.”  I slipped one over my own head and snorted.  
“Have you tried one on?” I asked, removing the inferior model.
“Well, no, Majesty,” he said.  
“Put it on,” I ordered.  He nodded and obeyed as I gestured for the window shades to be drawn.  A signal from me had one guard moving in to attack.  
“Majesty?” cried Jakeor as a punch hit him in the stomach.  “Stop!  What is...”  My man efficiently beat him, raining blows on his head and arms as he curled into a ball to protect his organs.  
“What’s wrong with this helmet?” I asked.
“Majesty?” he asked, gasping for air.  I viciously kicked him twice.
“Did you see that coming?” I taunted.
“No, your Imperial Majesty,” he replied, wheezing.
“And why was that?” I asked dryly.  
“It’s too dark for me to see,” he said.  “The visors are too black!”
“Very good,” I said.  “Don’t bother me again until you come up with a decent helmet.”  I kicked him once more for good measure and swept out, leaving him to cower on the floor.