Rise Of The Godking - Chapter 110 Rebels

Captain Malik sat in his guard station, calmly smoking his pipe with his legs on the table in front of him, his hands behind his head, forming a perfect cushion that he had come to love over all the years he had spent in this very spot, in this very role.

Five guards bustled around him, taking care of their day-to-day duties, but all he needed to do was make sure that the oiled system he had set in place would keep turning, without fail, without a pause, without a hint of trouble. He was proud of everything he had done for his king, and his home. In just a week, he could retire with all the honor of someone who had saved the people he was going to live beside so many times that many had lost count…and if he was being frank, even though he kept acting as if he didn’t want to leave, he was really looking forward to a calm, respected life in the suburbs of the beach island.

He had always loved food, so because he still had some time to go before he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed without embarrassing himself, he had been thinking about setting up a restaurant. He didn’t know how it would be when all the guards he used to shout at would come and order him around in his own place, though…but the moment he remembered the discipline he had drilled into them, he became confident that no such thing would happen. He had always ever done what was necessary, and as he had taken no pain in inflicting pain, he assured himself that all his patrons would be fair, in the same way.

The large street of the north-eastern island was in front of him. He usually rotated between all seven guard posts, and today, he had chosen this one as it had the best tea.

Picking up the cup beside him, he took a sip and almost moaned as the herbal taste suffused his mouth, calming his mind and even his entire body. From the window in front of him, he could clearly see the main street of the island, beyond which were crisscrossing alleyways that made up most of the place. If there was any trouble, he was guaranteed to catch a sign of it from where he was…but he had a good feeling about today, so he was looking forward to going to bed early.

Each alley had been constructed so that the sound from within one would not filter into the other. This had been marred, of course, when people had grown overzealous and built their own buildings, but in the guard post which was unchanged, only the sound from the almost empty square in front of them could be heard.

Noticing that he was no longer sucking in smoke, he got up to refill his pipe. Just when he did so…he could swear that he saw something pass the alley right in front of the square, but it was gone in a second.

This time, he frowned, but soon, he convinced himself that it was just the nervousness due to his retirement being so soon catching up to him. With a smile, he struck a match and began to light the plants…but at that exact moment, he saw it clearly, for the first time.

A group of people, all fighting between themselves, had run past on the road. For a moment, he stood there, stuck in the act of lighting his pipe, and just then…they passed the mouth of the square again, making him curse due to the match that burned his fingers while calling for the guards.

‘Dammit, dammit, dammit!’

Continuing to curse in his mind, he led a contingent of 20 soldiers who were posted nearby to the people. The nearer they got, the more the sounds of the fighting could be heard, and this time, the clever construction of the place had acted against them. Even seeing the guards, who were usually respected so much that they were given free meals by many restaurant owners arrive, the people did not break off. Instead, some from each group even approached Malik, and as soon as they recognized him, they began to shout their own version of things.

The problem was that they spoke at the same time, so he could understand nothing. Years of keeping the peace had already equipped him to make the best decision in any given situation. Quickly, he gave the order to restore calm, first, and as he saw the soldiers use the butts of their spears to strike anyone who didn’t stop even after they shouted at them thrice, he grabbed both the people closest to him who had come to ask for his help and squeezed, making them wince and fall silent.

“Tell me why are fighting. You, first.”

When he let go of the man’s arm, he gulped and replied, “Rebels, Captain Malik!”

His heart missed a beat as soon as he heard that word. Before the man could say anything else, though, the other piped up, shouting, “No, they’re the rebels! Hear me out, Captain Malik!”

Seriousness finally entered his eyes, and with it came the dangerous glint of someone ready to kill if it was needed. It made both men take a step back, but controlling himself, Malik said, “Only the one I ask for shall speak. Talk, man!”

With a start, the one who had spoken first opened his mouth, but as if getting a better idea, he plunged his hand inside his coat and took out a letter.

Shoving it in Malik’s direction, he said, “This came to my house! I know the handwriting cos I’ve seen it before! It was a mistake, surely…but just look at the contents!”

Malik knew the man he was speaking to, knew where he lived. Sure enough, the address written on top of the letter was someplace else, but with curiosity, he opened it and took out the envelope within, which was made of the best paper available in the entire city.

His eyebrows rose higher and higher with each word that he read. It spoke of plans long in the making, after years lying in wait, of the time nearing where they could show themselves, and bring down the king. That last one made his hackles rise; this was a threat unlike any other, and raising one hand, he prepared to order all the guards to arrest the other man, whose name was signed at the bottom.

Before he could do so, though…the other man took out a letter, too, as if already having anticipated such a reaction. Malik blinked for a few moments, seeing that the handwriting on it belonged to the man who had given him the first letter, but grabbing it a second later, he opened it and read the contents…which were similar.

‘What the fuck is going on here? How can they both be rebels? What is happening? And why the hell did this have to happen today, of all days!’

His thoughts stopped when a guard ran up to him and panted, breathlessly, holding his sides which were surely burning. Then, the message he gave sent Malik running, as the situation was much worse than he had expected.

“Captain, this is happening all over all the islands! People got letters that weren’t addressed to them, by mistake! Rebels! Rebels everywhere!”

In merely 30 minutes, guards were marching out of the central island, headed to all six islands to calm down all the people who had resorted to fighting to prove that they weren’t what the letters said they were. He had checked many of them, too; each and every one had the exact handwriting of the one whose name was at the bottom, and even the signature was a perfect match. Malik had no idea how this was possible…and it was also not possible that they were all rebels.

Just a few minutes ago, he had gotten the idea that he was acting on, at the moment. In all the letters, a few addresses had been common. These were the original places to which the letters had been supposed to go, but they had been sent to others over the islands who were famous for being so patriotic that they would be the first to pick up swords to fight for the city.

With fifty guards in front of him, he made his way to one of the addresses. It was an abandoned shack, lying in ruins, almost, but when the door was kicked in…a clean place appeared in front of him.

Malik shouldered his way through all the guards, the full metal armor he had donned clinking as he shoved past others who were dressed in armor made of layers of leather and hide.

He examined the walls that were filled with papers, and the table on which there were even more. All of them were plans against the king, and the city.

‘A rebel hideout… I can’t believe it! They were right under our noses all along! Well, it does seem as if this place has been set up very recently…but maybe they moved here after being somewhere else until now!’

One of the charts on the walls caught his attention. As soon as he saw what was on it, blood drained of his face, and he shouted to a messenger nearby, the words spilling out of his mouth with haste.

“Deploy the rest of the guards! Only hold back a couple! Make sure that the king is inside the vault! We need to comb all the islands right now! We can’t leave a single place unchecked! GO!”

He left, then, intending to take charge of the search, himself. As for the paper he had read before giving the command…it fluttered behind him, and the words on it flashed in the sun before the door closed, shrouding it in darkness.

It said:

‘Vault is impossible to open! NO NEED TO TRY! Get him outside!”