The Toils (Book One)

VII. Go East

*

Even by three o'clock in the afternoon the following day, the protestors still hadn't budged - in fact the number of protestors swelled as people throughout the Citadel caught wind of the protests happening at the House. What started as twenty-five protestors had ballooned overnight to at least a hundred, out numbering the Guards.
Everyone, be it the protestors, the Guardsman lining the yard, or the occupants of the House, was extremely tired, growing angrier by the minute.
The sun beat down on them viciously, reddening their skin, if it wasnt already red owing to the blood flowing through their cheeks.
Drew and Randall stood in the throne room drawing plans.
"You need to call a council meeting, we can't sort this out between us two alone", Drew implored him, the sounds of the commotion below making their way up the stairs and onto the third floor.
"Calling them together isn't going to help this".
"Us two standing here debating this isn't helping either".
Randall paced from the desk to the door of the bedroom, sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains above the bed.
"I want them gone, Drew!", Randall snapped.
"Go down there and talk to them then", Drew shook his head obviously.
"I'm not interested in justifying myself to a pack of fucking farmers!".
"Those farmers feed us, they make our clothes and they manufacture our weapons!", Drew spoke with consternation.
"And we distribute that food! We deal with thieves destroying their crops and we use those weapons when under threat of invasion!", Randall spun on his heel and cried out.
"Randall, you need to go down there and talk to them!".
"NO! Take yourself down to the Key Pits and drag out the trebuchets!", Randall barked.
"I beg your pardon?", Drew became unnerved.
Randall crossed the room and pushed himself into Drews personal space.
"Go. Downstairs. Get some men. Get a trailer. And get. The fucking. Trebuchets", Randall spoke poisonously through gritted teeth.
Drew daren't move, he felt his blood boiling.
"I'm putting men in the Pits just so you can have a dick-waving contest against your own citizens", Drew spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Look, kid, I appreciate you tracking down Gene, but I'm not stupid enough to believe that you overpowered that giant hairball", Randall spat venomously, "If I were you, son, I'd do as I was told before I ended up on the stocks for subverting a Kings orders".
Drew stood stiff, knowing he was clinched.
Without another word, he strutted from the room, back down the stairs.

Upon the arrival of the three trebuchets from the Key Pits, the councilors caught wind of the plan to intimidate the protestors from the House grounds.
All of them stood around the guillotine just outside the doors and watched the commotion on the edge of the roadway.
Ritty watched as a Guard got into a heated argument with an older man next to Alice.
Out the corner of his eyes he caught Randall passing the group of councilors at the guillotine, headed toward the fighting guard.
"Get off the grass!", the Guard shouted down at the man.
"OI RANDALL!", the man shouted over the Guard.
"Do as he says; off the grass!", Randall woofed back, shoving the man back into place. His jowles wobbled as he was pushed by Randall.
Damien struffled across the lawn, peacocking as he approached Randall. His kids watched on from near the councilors, Lauren biting her fingrnails nervously.
"Don't you touch me!", the protestor bit back, the rest of them pushing forward angrily, forcing the Guards to take a step back.
"HOI!", Damien shouted, a wild fist from the crowd aiming for him; missing.
The councilors, led by Agnes, tread closer.
"GET BACK!", a Guardsman screamed, spit flying from his mouth.
"FUCK OFF YA BRUTE!", Alice roared, her blonde hair billowing wildly around her face.
The Guards drew their swords, holding them high so the crowd could see them.
"I'M ORDERING YOU TO STEP OFF THE GRASS, OR FORCE WILL BE USED!", Drew called over the shouting mass in front of him, two people down from Randall.
With a heave the crowd pulsed forward, leaving it entirely impossible to tell who struck first.
In the end, though, it didn't matter who struck first; the end result was still the same.
Guards swung their swords aimlessly, striking protestors who were holding up their placards to protect themselves. It was useless. The swords sliced through them with no resistance, hitting the protestors in the neck, hands, and face.
Ritty watched people scatter in horror, Randall scuffled away hurriedly as Damien started showering punches as far and wide as was possible without getting struck by a rogue sword.
"RANDALL CALL IT OFF!", Ritty runs across the lawn to Randall on his hands and knees crawling away.
Ritty caught sight of Alice being struck in the arm by a sword, the crowd around her dsipersing; running for their lives.
The Guards bunched around the remaining protestors, fifteen or so, and whipped their swords back and forth, spraying blood around them.
Lauren and Elvis had since bolted across the yard, trying to pull their father from a protesting man, Damien landing punches left and right, pulverizing the man's face.
With a heave, they pulled Damien from the beaten protestor on the ground, he was knocked out cold. Damien, drenched in the man's blood, struggled against his children briefly, before shifting away from the violence.
Drew tried holding his men back, barking commands at them but it was no to avail. Now the violence had started it was next to impossible to stop.
Antonia pulled Ritty away from the affray, safely behind the stocks where James, Doris and Agnes had taken refuge - the other councilors, Ritty observed, had gone back inside the house.
The swords continued swinging at the few protestors still remaining on the grass, though Ritty noticed Alice had vanished.
By time they'd finished, ten people lay dead on the grass, the other ninety or so protestors were nowhere to be seen. The otherwise green grass was stained red and the Guards rolled around finishing off the injured.