As promised, Kallup knocked on the door before dawn, so early that Aran had barely woken up. The Ebony Rooster reported that he had also received orders to escort Aran Allet and the Lud young boys to the Ducal Palace, but he didn't add anything else. Aran looked at his friends one by one, their expressions full of fear. He knew he was the anchor point for the whole group, the decision would be up to him. And he chose to wait and let Hyon take the lead.
Hyon agreed, on the condition that Cora stayed home to keep him company; a valid compromise that was fine with the Amanastrian commander.
They left the master's house full of doubts, their eyes carefully searching for traces of Kharzan soldiers.
"You should only speak if spoken to, the Duke values etiquette," said Kallup on the way. Aran took one last look at the master's house. Cora was watching them from the window. He gave him a nod of understanding which his friend returned. Why did they leave him there? He didn't understand and he liked it even less than this meeting with the Duke. He kept his eyes on him until they turned the corner and headed into the pearly morning fog. The sky was thick with grayish clouds coming from the east.
When they arrived in the square, Aran immediately noticed Vega and his men in high uniform. It was as if they were waiting for them, standing tall and talking to his subordinates without flinching. The boy drew Camiel's attention. "They're already here," he said, pointing to the captain.
The warrior looked around, fists clenched. "I see them..."
The young Allet gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. "That man was in Lud. He was talking to your father before the attack," whispered Camiel. The captain returned their attention with a fake smile.
Kallup and Camiel headed straight for the entrance. Aran followed, and when he was near the Kharzanian, he took on a defiant expression.
They walked past the Goliath in the form of a knight and went under the tall and heavy main gate. They continued walking along a covered cloister. Fez slowed down with his nose up. Aran looked up and understood his friend's reasons. The vaulted ceiling was frescoed with depictions of dancing maidens, joyful infants, and armed warriors that succeeded each other between the round, colorful windows.
"Attention!" shouted one of the lancers not far away. The group of armored soldiers parted to let their commander pass. Guarding the throne room, among the dynamic marble statues under the colonnade, two stood majestic, staring into the void. Both held a scroll and a balance.
Amidst a group of well-dressed men, a scrawny valet with a peculiar deflated hat on his head bowed over a parchment. Clearing his throat, he announced, "Duke Valiant VI Stassor, following this morning's meeting, has issued the following prices at the end of yesterday's list." He pointed to a line. "Seven sacks of wheat for a barrel of plain wine, a gold fist for a horse, and a silver arm." He coughed and adjusted his hat. "Taxes, until the next moon, are five parts of a hundred for each exchange at the port and seven parts of a hundred within the walls." The men around him jotted down notes on their papers and hurried off. The valet looked up, his eyes widening as he saw Kallup Yazzan just a few steps away from him, and ordered him in a high-pitched voice to open the door to the hall.
The boys entered in strict silence, in a single line, with Fez hiding behind Camiel. Marmorel took Aran's hand, and he suppressed a smile. "Stay calm," he told her, hoping it would work for once. She nodded and took a deep breath.
Aran took another step forward, towards the steep staircase leading to the throne. The gold and silver that adorned it contrasted with the Duke's red and purple attire. The man made no secret of his wealth, at least judging by the number of rings that adorned the fat, pale fingers just outside the frayed sleeves. The crown was no less ostentatious, with engraved decorations and precious stones forming a two-headed eagle. The ruler lazily looked over each of the guests and smiled.
The valet inhaled until his chest swelled. "You are in the presence of His Majesty Duke Valiant VI Stassor, Prince of Salt and Spices, Guardian of the Mountain, Lord of the Free City and its domains, sovereign of Amanastre and the plain."
Duke, prince, and all, but as much as he was covered in jewels and fine fabrics, the ruler seemed to Aran like a graceful pink pig, with a triple chin and a generous forehead.
The little porker shifted on his throne, raised his neck, and shrugged, but the fat that surrounded that face remained in place. Eventually, the man collapsed again in what looked like a failed attempt to give himself some air. He chuckled gutturally and fiddled with the gold chain around his neck.
"Commander Yazzan, take a seat and do the honors in my place," said the Duke.
Aran raised an eyebrow and turned to Fez.
Kallup bowed, his right hand on his heart and his left fist along his side. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"How much youth..." the Duke continued. He rubbed his fingers as if he were testing the softness of a fabric. "Tell me, my dear guests, what are your names?" The labored rhythm stole solemnity from the meeting.
Aran tried not to show any emotion. His nerves were as steady as the foundations of the building. The Duke's gaze was fixed on him, waiting for a response.
"Aran, Your Majesty. Aran Allet of Lud, son of Ludvig Allet, councilor of the city and descendant of Gregor Allet, First Senator of the Republic of Lamia." He would not have looked out of place even in front of a nobleman, of that he was sure: he was neither a farmer nor a simple bourgeois... he was an Allet. The same blood of those who had founded a nation ran through his veins. And at that moment, his heritage was the only weapon he had at his disposal.
"Oh, it is an honor to have you as a guest in my city," the Duke said, nodding his head and moving on.
"Elidana, orphan of Lud," she accompanied with a slight bow.
"Marmorel Olysser, daughter of Ariana Olysser and granddaughter of Odmund Olysser, councilor of the city of Lud," she took a small step and crossed her legs. She bowed her head and bent her knees. She stood up after a short pause in a single, graceful movement.
The Duke leaned back with a broad smile. "What an elegant young lady you are," his voice sounded like a growl. "And you," he said, his smile growing wider, "what is your name, and what are your ancestries?"
"F-Farouk Shadid of Lud, son of Rahaman and Najat Shadid of Lud," he stammered.
The Duke's gaze focused on him, steady and calm. Fez took a step back, his face sweaty. Finally, the sovereign of Amanastre invited the young people to take their seats and looked at Camiel. "Now, let's move on to our most important guest. The warrior who escaped from the Hozman Empire, triggering the biggest manhunt the continent has ever seen."
Elidana widened her eyes. "Huh?"
Aran pulled back his head. "What did he say?"
Camiel advanced and bowed at the foot of the stairs. "Camae Til Elarin of Farendal, second son of Tarhn Til Elarin. Heir to the throne of the Twilight and rightful owner of Wind of Light." His voice resounded throughout the hall, confident and decisive.
Was it the same old Camiel? For the first time, Aran saw in him a royalty that no jewel or crown could confer. He was incredulous as the Hozman put away his precious sword on the first step. The seal they had imposed on him at the city entrance had disappeared. A guard took a step towards him, having noticed its absence. Kallup stopped him with a gesture of his hand, and Camiel took up his weapon to return to the side of the young people who continued to stare at him.
"What...," whispered Aran.
"Be quiet," Camiel replied sternly.
"Now that we're done with introductions, I think we can proceed with the agenda," the Duke clapped his hands three times. "Bring in the Khazarian delegation."
The doors opened. Vega and the two men in uniform crossed the threshold. Their heads held high, their steps well-measured. They lined up in the exact center of the throne room, amid the decorations on the floor. They stood at attention, immobile, in silence.
"Please," said the Duke, gesturing.
"Captain Nelson Vega, Special Recovery Section for Seorite," he pointed to the accompanying soldiers, "Sergeant Fragan and Private Vastos." He didn't bow, but instead, placed his hands behind his back, as if to show off the army emblem and medals pinned to his chest.
The Duke frowned and waited.
"Duke Valiante VI," Vega said.
"Your Majesty, Captain!" Kallup interrupted. "The treatment for our sovereign is 'Your Majesty'."
Nelson Vega grimaced but nodded slightly. "Your Majesty, I ask you to hand over the citizens of the Republic of Lamia present in this room, the Hozman warrior and the zalesian, as requested by the High Command of Edel last night." He motioned towards them. "They are accused of starting the fire that ravaged the city of Lud, perpetrating a massacre of innocent citizens. They are in possession of a significant amount of Seorite which, according to international law, belongs to the Kharzanian nation. Finally, to avoid capture, they caused a train derailment near Clodia, causing irreparable damage to property and people."
With every sentence that came out of that slimy mouth, Aran felt a pang in his heart. Listening to those words was more devastating than he had imagined. With anger, Aran jumped out of his seat. "Those are all lies!" he yelled.
Elidana grabbed him by the arm, but the anger had already taken over. The Duke of Amanastre looked at him through the bars.
Vega, on the other hand, seemed to be increasing in satisfaction. "Lies, Aran Allet?" he asked with a smirk. "Can you deny having had anything to do with all of this? That your gang was not on the train derailed with the Hozman? It's no coincidence that you're all here together." He pointed at Camiel, "It's no coincidence that you decided to hide in Amanastre rather than seek justice in Clodia." Vega turned back to the Duke, who was now scratching his chin. "Your Majesty, I believe it's necessary to consider the fact that their escape already carries a weight, a boulder of guilt that cannot be lifted by a defense based on the word of a young boy."
Aran wanted to scream that it wasn't true, that they couldn't have derailed the train while still on it. But then he remembered what Camiel had thought, that maybe it was also his fault. After all, he wasn't on the train with them, in fact, he was outside the station. If he had spoken up, the Hozman would still have been accused, and he couldn't allow that after he had saved them and brought them to a safe place.
He swallowed his anger and sat back down.
The Duke paused and looked at those present, almost studying them. Finally, he took a breath and said, "I appreciate the effort to protect one's homeland and to seek justice, in your own way." He snapped his fingers in the direction of one of the servants, who jumped up the first step and hurried up. "But the Free City of Amanastre is not under the jurisdiction of the nation of Kharzan, nor of the Republic of Lamia."
Captain Vega took a step forward. "The commercial contracts that you yourself have signed also have clauses for the management of Kharzanian prisoners."
The Duke nodded and snapped his fingers again in rapid succession. The servant approached and the ruler whispered in his ear.
Vega smiled.
The servant ran out of the room and the Duke gazed at the ceiling, then at his jewels, and finally back at his guests. The wait was an eternity. Vega was quiet, seemingly calm, with his hands behind his back.
"Why is no one speaking anymore?" Fez stuttered in a low voice.
"International agreements must be respected. Do you know what would happen if Edel suddenly decided to end trade with Amanastre?" Camiel said with a contracted face. "I'm sorry to say it, but none of us is worth all that gold. The Duke wants to know how to proceed."
Fez swallowed and squeezed Marmorel's hand so hard that the tips of her fingers turned red. She looked at him with teary eyes. Aran's legs couldn't stand still.
"Don't panic," Camiel whispered, but even he didn't seem certain of his words this time.
The valet returned a few minutes later with his arms full of scrolls, so many that they were in front of his face. Every step seemed like an experiment to see what would end up on the ground, whether one of the texts or himself. He stopped for a moment in front of the stairs. He lifted one foot, moved it forward until it touched the step with the tip. A couple of taps and he placed it down. From there, the steps followed one another increasingly quickly until the servant found himself panting, next to the sovereign.
The Duke narrowed his eyes, massaged his chubby cheek, and picked out a few scrolls. He unrolled them just enough to read the title, and tucked them back into the stack of documents. He repeated the operation half a dozen times.
"How long is this going to take?" Aran muttered. Camiel responded with a glare.
After a few minutes, the Duke sent the servant away. He opened a scroll, stared at it for an indefinite amount of time, and finally tapped a specific point with a satisfied smile. "Here... this should be it..." He cleared his throat and read, "The Duchy of Amanastre undertakes to deliver, upon official request, any subject within its borders who has taken action or intends to manifest an undoubted threat to the Nation of Kharzan."
Vega nodded. "As you can see, Your Majesty..." he waved a paper, "here is the official request."
The valet, sweating so much that his collar and hat were drenched, took the paper and returned to the duke's side.
The Duke scanned the page back and forth. He seemed undecided. In the end, he placed the document on the arm of the throne.
"Captain Nelson Vega, you are right, these papers were written by my own hand..." he muttered. "But," he spread a hand towards the boys, "I see no threat to Edel... I see no armies or assassins in this room."
Vega widened his eyes, his serious expression collapsing. "What?" For the first time, his voice came out of its usual cadence.
"Before me, I only had four battered boys and their escort," the Duke explained. "Captain, these people have been granted asylum in Amanastre. Until you have overwhelming evidence against them, unfortunately for you, I must reject your request."
"Are you agreeing to provide refuge to dangerous fugitives?" Vega asked, annoyed.
"Look at them, Captain... Do you really think I am so foolish as to believe that these young people have done everything you just said? They are not even capable of wielding a weapon, and I do not want to know the motivations that drive you to persecute them. But I do not believe for a moment that these boys are so fearsome as to terrorize Edel and its government!" The Duke emphasized the final part with his voice.
Fez let out a loud breath. He must have been holding it for a while.
The soldiers accompanying Vega looked at each other briefly before looking back at the Captain. He, on the other hand, quickly regained his composure. This time, a note of anger made him spit out the words one after the other. "Duke Valiante VI, the High Command, will be disappointed by this decision. There will be serious repercussions; "he did not bat an eye," I just hope that Amanastre is not involved with the Seorite shipment."
"Moderate your tone, Captain!" Kallup rebuked him with a scream that even made Aran shudder. "I remind you of the place where you are speaking. Threatening the sovereign of Amanastre is an outrage that is paid for dearly."
"I am not threatening your sovereign, but these filthy fugitives."
The Duke shifted on the throne. Head held high. "The mountain harbors the only truth," he said proudly. "This is the motto of my house, this is the legacy of my father and his predecessors!" He waved his hand towards the door. "You may go now, Captain. These boys are our guests until I say otherwise. I, Valiante VI, Duke of Amanastre, have issued my verdict, and may the free city fall if my word is broken."
The three Kharzanians stiffened. Vega stopped to stare at the duke.
"You should go," suggested the valet. They turned towards the exit.
The Captain walked past Camiel and Lud's young boys. He paused at Aran. "Do you really think it's over?"
Aran lifted his chin and returned the threatening gaze. "Be careful not to step on the tail you have between your legs."
Nelson Vega curved his lips into an unlikely smile. This time his expression seemed like that of a madman. He put his hand in his pocket to move the coins, and when he pulled it out, a small ring fell at Marmorel's feet.
Aran paled. His breath caught in his throat. The gold ring with the "A" emblem of his family, his father's ring. He was sure of it.