The marshal nodded and the captain returned a gesture of obeyance. However doubting, he understood that he had already committed himself to treason. As he faced his hostages, his resolve was steeled. His saber swung downward, and August brought his children closer as he turned away from his fate. From their barrels which hid a ticket to the abyss, the rifles discharged and its flames were ignited. Gunpowder spat and targetless lead sprayed, striking anything in its path. Ranks rotated in and out, volley after volley, soldiers reloading and firing in alternation. The thunder of their weapons echoed, drumming against the walls and rattling the glass which had long defended itself against the wind. Death bellowed its drums and the sound of wrath broke the peace of night. Like a detonation of firecrackers and fireworks, the nearest towns could surely hear. There were distant galloping horses who came to a halt from the scare, then seconds after, the hurried whip of a knight’s reins were heard. One yelled to hasten his mount but as he approached, his voice was deafened by the screams that erupted between each round of fire. Lords and ladies, their heirs and junkers fell, riddled with holes. Blood spread across the floor with most not knowing whose puddles they belonged to. Bodies piled and their cries eventually grew fewer as the gunfire intensified. The last queen alive held onto her husband’s arm, Friedrich, as the spared family looked on in horror, forgetting that their children were witnesses too. The young prince stared, his view of the world altered forever, whilst the flashes of gunfire reflected into his eyes, burning an image into his mind that would haunt him until death. Although his elder sister turned him away, embracing him, he could not be uncensored from what was reality any longer. He heard everything that unfolded.
The last volley of the night rang out and trails of smoke sizzled out of hot barrels. Traitorous soldiers stood down their rifles and the hall fell silent. Before them, the dead’s hands appeared to reach for their feet, their eyes awide, but the only movement that came from them was the flow of warm, red life. Like a water feature made of three scores of men, women, and children, blood ran out of new orifices, trickling down their limbs and hair. Not one was spared. There was not one survivor. Yet the first thing that came to the executors’ minds was not to honor the dead, but to trample over them, laughing playfully as they picked at their corpses like crows, searching for valuables and loot.
Their grand marshal who authorized the killing did nothing to stop them, and looked on, turning a blind eye at the clear violation. “Forgive me, your majesty.” There was shame in his voice when he dared request a pardoning from his liege, but that shame was not enough to have prevented him from taking such measures. “But to fulfill my duty to the people, your people, anything had to be done to ensure the survival of the realm.” He offered a reason, though he was sure nothing could ever convince the king anymore.
Meyer marched towards the captain who sheathed his saber. When he felt the presence of the marshal approaching him, he spun around. Guilt-stricken by the massacre, the captain could not bring himself to face the king and forced his focus onto his commander, his head slightly lowered.
“Once the south has been purged of rebels, have his majesty and his royal family sent to Neuschwanstein…” Meyer instructed, quietly, for the captain to know alone. “For protection.” He added as a safeguard.
Continuing on past the captain, the marshal tread, carefully, over the bodies, scanning the dead for anything that caught his eye also. He abandoned the king to his own thoughts who had just seen his most trusted soldier to have stooped so low without a sense of morality that remained. Anger swelled within him. His fists tensed as his family surrounded him, traumatized, finding protection in their husband and father. The captain obeyed as commanded and turned to his king. Exhaling his last sense of pride, he snapped his fingers and directed his men toward the royals. Corpses stripped of their inventory were hauled out of the hall and tossed into the snow, stacked into a mound. To have been spared when his vassals had been murdered was the utmost humiliation for the king he refused to bear. As soldiers neared him, ready to seize his family, in a moment of sudden instinct, Friedrich whipped his arm forward and from his sleeve, a hidden pistol flipped into his hand. The captain noticed the shine of a gilded barrel pointing at him and ducked, alarmed, but he was not his target. Friedrich pulled its trigger without a second thought and a short bang rang. A squad held him down after he fired his only shot, disarming the king whose family were quickly escorted away.. Reinforcements gathered around to secure the frenzied man but they were still afraid to hurt him despite their changed allegiances.
Dragged away, kicking and fighting, the king shouted, “Death will have you soon, Johannes!” Powerless, he could only spit on his former soldiers’ faces to disgrace them. “Traitor! Traitor! All of you are traitors!” They were branded so but they had known that beforehand.
The door slammed shut and his voice was muted by the palace’s thick walls. His intended target, however, remained standing. Holding his ear which rang from the shot, the marshal withdrew his hand and brought it into view, bloodied by a flesh wound. The bullet had just grazed him and struck the wall where it would forever be lodged in a shallow hole. Meyer sighed, his troops continuing their work, but before all his victims had been cleared of the scene, there was an object on the ground by his feet that caught his eye. He knelt down and saw that it had spilled out of the pocket of a king, cradling his silent infant. It was a gold badge with an emblem of a long-lasted dynasty that was then, in one night, eradicated. As its usurper, Meyer picked it up and the royal corpse was dragged away. Returning to the table where his betrayal was executed, where the light was brightest, he brushed the surface of the badge of blood and admired its masterful craftsmanship with a smirk and a chuckle. But then, another set of doors opened.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCwEKwoInoh
