Chapter 41

A bucket of ice water poured over Galaspiael's head woke him up.

"Stand up, Your Highness!" Washar put down the bucket and took the key from his pocket. "It's time to stretch your legs a little."

"You will regret it!" Galaspiael croaked.

"This must be your favorite thing to say. This is the third time I've heard it, and still nothing happens."

He did not remove his shackles, but undid the chain. Galaspiael wrapped it around his right hand twice and almost fell on his face when he was jerked violently. Slowly, he got up from his knees, put his fingers into the metal links and pulled hard.

He was able to surprise Washar. He didn't want to wait for another chance. He pushed him, pulled the key and ran out of the tent.

"Grab him!" He heard the screams behind his back. "Don't let him escape!"

Galaspiael didn't waste a moment. He almost shouted with joy when he managed to unbind the shackles. He easily overpowered the man who ran out to block his path and took his weapon. With each passing moment more and more people ran to him, but he wasn't going to give up. He attacked like crazy, wanting to clear his way as soon as possible. In the distance, freedom was waiting. The urge to break free gave him incredible strength.

He felt someone grab his shoulders. He threw him off and then Washar blocked his way. He attacked with a force he would not have suspected of himself at that moment. He did not think about dark energy but about getting out of the camp as soon as possible.

Washar had to admit that he was hit by a difficult opponent. Galaspiael, although weakened, was quick and had great reflex. At one point, Washar simply defended himself instead of attacking. The precious prisoner was close to escaping, but Najana joined the fight at the last moment. Galaspiael did not manage to push her away and she knocked him down. Immediately several soldiers helped immobilize him completely.

"I'll show you how the revolts end, you Kagolanian dog!" Saying this, Washar leaned over and took out his dagger. He forced Galaspiael to open the right hand.

"Pathetic. You can't fight like a man?" Suddenly a voice stuck in king's throat, and a terrible pain radiated to his shoulder. He couldn't help shouting. A piece of his finger was cut off.

It was a huge loss. He knew that he would no longer be able to hold the sword as precisely as before, but he did not think about it at that moment. He took advantage of the opportunity and spat on Washar, for which he was punched in the face three times.

Washar used the dagger once again. This time Galaspiael thought he would lose consciousness. He tried his best not to shout, but it was impossible. Washar cut off his whole finger. Slowly, joint by joint, so that the pain was even greater. When someone burned his wound, Galaspiael thought, he'll lose his mind.

"Does it hurt?" Washar hissed at him. "You think so now. You haven't yet figured out what real pain is!"

"You'll pay for that!" Galaspiael replied quietly. His voice sounded miserably weak. He heard muffled laughter above his head.

Washar pulled away, gave him a look of contempt.

"I think everyone has looked at you enough, there is no need for you to stay here. Take him! but tie his arms and legs this time! Have you found someone yet?"

"No, sir," someone replied, "I mean... there is one, but now I realized that he doesn't look like him."

"Useless carcasses, you can't do anything right! Look at him closely then find me someone similar! I will probably have to start looking myself. Ah!" When they wanted to drag Galaspiael back to the tent, he stopped. "You can give him some food, he didn't get anything yesterday. It would be too easy, just let this thief die, no one was merciful for me."

Four men quickly managed to bend Galaspiael back. He was already too weak to resist. However, they did not comply with the second order. They just left him alone.

Galaspiael's throat was dry, like never before, and he would kill for even a little drop water. He really wanted to ask someone to bring him some, but he refrained. He thought he'd rather die of thirst than ask these people for anything.

His hand still ached mercilessly, and the bandage, had already completely soaked in blood. He had only four fingers on his right hand. He couldn't look at it without wanting to vomit.

It was an extremely severe punishment, but it couldn't break his soul, and Washar knew it. He also knew that the search would not end until the king was found, alive or dead.

He didn't need to have Galaspiael with him to recreate his face in his mind. He compared him with several people and realized that finding someone even a little similar would be a challenge. It was mainly about the color of the skin. Galaspiael, like most aristocrats, had a very fair complexion. People of the Empire, were quite naturally darker than Kagolanians, and the majority of them could not avoid the sun because of work they did.

"The skin can be whitened," said Najana. "There are special balms and powders that women use to brighten their faces. The problem is that they can be washed away, but I don't think anyone would dare touch his body during a funeral. We can prepare everything so that they do not have to do anything. We can say that we did this to pay him last tribute or something. It's important to just find someone similar. The same height, similar facial features. I will take care of the rest."

"One of our generals looks very similar. If we don't find anyone, I don't mind..."

"If you are already to shed blood, let it be a common soldier, not an important person. Do you care about discretion or not?!"

Washar did not answer. In fact, he didn't care. He only wanted revenge and the thought of it drowned out everything else that appeared in his head.

*

After a while, the silence turned out to be worse than the pain. Galaspiael was alone with his own thoughts and could not stand it.

He was guarded by two soldiers, who either received such an order or decided themselves to keep him in silence. They didn't let anyone in until late at night. He was completely alone, at their mercy, terribly hungry, thirsty and exhausted.

Miraculously he managed to fall asleep and dreamed of Kalena. Younger version of Kalena than the one he parted with. When she saw him, she started crying. He wanted to tell her to run away, to get help, to pass the guards somehow, but his voice stuck in his throat. Something was blocking him and he couldn't even moan. He woke up and everything came back; pain, fear, Madegaldian camp, and in addition a feeling of complete loneliness.

He listened to the sounds from outside and realized that they woke him up. A dark figure entered the tent. She came closer and lit a candle, then he saw that she was a dark-skinned woman he had seen in the camp once. Without a word, she handed him a cup of water and a dry cake.

"How's your hand?" She asked in a whisper.

"It hurts, but it's probably normal?" He replied coldly and cleared his throat as his stomach grunted. "I'll be fine. Is it still night?"

"It's dawn ... My name is Najana," she said, sitting down next to him. "Do you remember me?"

"And why should I..." he paused and looked at her closely. "I think I remember, have we met before?"

" Today. And during your training at the Scribes' Association."

"Ah yes ... I know now," he smiled sourly, remembering those years. "You are the girl from the Sekania who made me fall from the first place in our fight ranking. And now you've buried my hope of getting out of here. How did it happen that you came to Madegald?"

"If I was a Sekanian, then I could not fight in the war or be here. I trained in Sekania, but Madegald is my homeland. Women have a little harder in the Conspiracy, that's why I didn't choose that organisation."

"Tell me," he interrupted, lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper. "What will you do with me? What is happening now? You have to know it! Please tell me!"

Najana looked at him sympathetically.

"Washar has already found the body."

"What body?"

"He knows that otherwise the search for you will continue. He intends to prepare a double and give it to the messenger who came here."

"What about me?" He asked, genuinely terrified. "What will happen to me?"

"I don't know. He's mad at you and wants to take revenge because you used this stolen dynamite recipe. Because it was you, right?" The woman snorted softly. "Did you have to tell him? Washar was the guardian of the recipe. The most important person who was responsible for keeping her secret. When you created your dynamite, information about it reached the Lilac City. When he tugged you here, he hoped to give you to the emperor so, he would ease his punishment, but when he learned that you had something to do with dynamite, he was furious..."

"But I didn't steal it! I bought it at the Sekanian market, it was inside a trunk. Old, damaged papers which I intended to throw away at the first moment when I noticed them there," he explained.

"He knows that. The person who stole the recipe is his brother, who recently became emperor. He managed to plot a plot against the oldest, Prince Vishimon. Washar served as part of the puzzle, an insignificant pawn. He can't take revenge on the emperor, so he takes revenge on you. After you used dynamite in the Sekania, his family was murdered."

"It doesn't make sense. You will not succeed! Even if they take this double, someone will recognize that it's a farce and will come back for me! And I will make sure that nobody goes unpunished! He paused when she pulled away from him. There was a long silence.

"Your people have betrayed you," she revealed.

"What are you talking about?"

"They came for you. Not the army, the messengers. One betrayed you."

Galaspiael didn't want to believe.

"What did he look like? Have you seen the face?"

"Fair hair, tall. I think older than you."

"Samin?" He shook his head. "No, you're lying. Samin couldn't do it. He was forced to do it, Washar had to blackmail him somehow!"

"They talked about dynamite. That's all I heard. This man said you didn't steal but…" She paused, searching for a word.

"But what?" he switched to Madegal.

"He said the same thing you told me," Najana glanced at the entrance in panic. She jumped up and slid out nimbly the other side of the tent. It wasn't a while when Washar and Samin came in.

"Oh look, our king is not sleeping! Do you confirm his identity?"

Galaspiael felt weak at the sound of that voice. Washar smirked, and Samin stared at him without emotion on his face.

"Yes. Can I be absolutely sure that everything will go as planned?"

"All you have to do is carry out the funeral ceremony. And convince everyone that you are the right material for a successor, of course, but I think that since you can conduct such outstanding negotiations, you won't have a problem with that, my friend."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Galaspiael pursed his lips for a moment. "You dog. You treacherous, lying dog!"

"You loser, you couldn't even throw yourself off the roof well when you had the opportunity!" See how you end up, does the king look like this? I deserve this crown more than you! Treacherous? You are treacherous and lying! I sacrificed everything for this country and how did you repay me? When I stopped being useful, you started treating me like an ordinary Okiani!"

"You are ordinary Okiani".

Samin's bright blue eyes flashed with wild fury.

"I am the king that Kagolania needed when you were away! I was always there whenever you showed everyone that you can't rule and I didn't get anything for it!"

"You got as much as your work was worth. I thought you knew the role of the regent."

"I waited three years for even one thank you. I endured all insults quietly and patiently, but it can't be done any longer! Believe me, I'm not the only one who wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible."

"Yes, there was also Nawarin, right? What did you promise him to stand by your side?"

"He sold himself easily and cheaply, but after deeper thinking I come to the conclusion that it would be better to invest more on a more skillful man."

"Samin, stop right there!" Galaspiael shouted after him as he turned to face the exit. "Don't you dare turn your back on me, you coward!"

The man snorted softly.

"I don't want to look at you because I loathe you. Here he is, a great descendant of the gods, bound like a piglet for slaughter. But it probably doesn't bother you, after all, you've been dealing with vermin all your life. And then you came back to the palace like a savior and everyone treated you like that. What did you really achieve? A few inventions that nobody really needs?"

"Pathetic little man, you won't be a king!" He said, laughing extortion. "Miserable Okiani of doubtful origin cannot bear this burden, history has confirmed it several times. I guarantee you that I will come back and throw you from the throne!"

"I'd like to see it," Washar mocked.

"You will see. Come on, hit me," he hissed, seeing a black stone in his hands. "You can beat me, torture me, do whatever you want. As for you," he turned to Samin "You can dress up as a king and pretend you have even a little honor. But I will still be the king of Kagolania."

Washar laughed out loud.

"Let it be! You can consider yourself whoever you want. Enjoy that we decided to make you a war hero. Nobody will know how you really died, it's too much grace."