บท 100: Unfairness
"Shit! Open the gaaaates!" The guard in charge of the inspection group shouted to the soldiers on top of the walls. His voice ignited the crowd like a spark in dry tinder.
"Aaaaaaahhhh!!" The men charged first, followed by women and even children, all desperate to overpower the soldiers. Some tried to snatch weapons; others fought just to reach the carriages, hoping to find food.
Chaos erupted as screams filled the air. The soldiers, overwhelmed, had no choice but to defend themselves. They thrust, slashed, punched, and kicked at anyone who got too close. The people at the back grabbed rocks and hurled them at the soldiers. Cries of pain joined the roars of anger as blood stained the ground, and bodies fell only to be replaced by more desperate souls.
Suddenly, a loud noise echoed, cutting through the chaos. Most ignored it, too focused on the frenzy, but those near the gates turned their heads.
"The gates are opening!"
"Everyone! The gates are opening!" People shouted, sprinting toward the opening, only to skid to a halt as a row of soldiers marched out, shields raised and spears at the ready.
The soldiers advanced without hesitation, killing anyone in their path. The sight of comrades being skewered by the merciless spears sent waves of panic through the crowd.
Rafael's pulse quickened. "You two! Get inside the carriage, NOW!" he shouted to the girls beside him. Fearful, they scrambled back to the carriage.
His gaze darted toward the gates. 'Soldiers must be coming out to help us. We just have to hold on for a minute.' But anxiety gnawed at him. The crowd was immense, filled with people who had lost everything and were now cornered by both outsiders and their own supposed protectors.
Despite the soldiers' efforts, the crowd was too large and too desperate. Some broke through and ran for the carriages, or toward those being protected.
'Fuck,' Rafael cursed, spotting a young man, thin and wild-eyed, break through the line and sprint toward him. He reacted instinctively, delivering a powerful kick to the man's chest, sending him flying back. The man didn't get up. He just lay there, his body twitching before going still.
There was no time to process it. More people broke through, charging at him. Rafael braced himself, but then something heavy slammed into him from behind, trying to bring him down.
"Get off!" He threw himself backward, crushing whoever had jumped on him against the carriage. He heard a pained grunt and felt the grip on him loosen.
He quickly dispatched the two who reached him, then turned to punch the other attacker—but froze. It was a boy, so thin and dirty that it was impossible to tell if he was a teenager or a child. Pain, anger, fear, and desperation flickered across the boy's face.
'Wait,' Rafael thought, but the boy lunged at him again. Rafael knocked him out with a swift punch to the chin.
The shouts and screams gradually died down. The soldiers who had emerged from the gates instilled terror in the crowd, slaughtering dozens in seconds. Those who survived fled, retreating to a distance where they could only glare at the soldiers with bloodshot eyes, cursing the heavens for their fate.
"Girls, it's me. I'm opening the door," Rafael called out, his voice shaky. It took them several minutes to stop trembling, even as he reassured them that the danger had passed.
"So… are we safe now?" one of them asked.
"Yes, but just to be sure, stay inside until we pass through the gates." After receiving a nod, he closed the door and looked around.
Dozens of bodies, maybe a hundred, lay scattered in pools of blood, forming a grim circle around the carriages. Rafael talked with the others, relieved to find that they had managed to defend themselves.
"Everyone! Attention! Get ready, we are entering the city!" the commander shouted. The city guards led them through the massive gates, finally entering Fritsburg.
Everyone was on high alert, their eyes darting around, expecting another attack. Rafael, however, sat inside the carriage, eyes closed, trying to steady his breathing.
His hand trembled slightly, and he felt a lump in his throat. The scenes replayed in his mind: the mass of people attacking, soldiers killing, cries from every direction, bodies falling, blood pooling—the faces of anger and despair.
Tuh Tuh Tuh
"Open the door and get out of the carriage!" A gruff voice commanded from outside. Rafael opened the door to see a soldier waiting. "Get out," the man repeated.
Rafael took a deep breath before calling the girls. After they left the carriage, two soldiers thoroughly searched it, checking for anything hidden. Nearby, other carriages were being inspected too. The surrounding houses were of high quality, the streets paved with stones, and the few onlookers were well-dressed and healthy.
Willian and Eruin approached Rafael and the girls. "What's happening? Why are they searching our things?" Willian asked, his eyes darting around anxiously. Eruin, brimming with indignation, walked over to the nearest guards. "I am Eruin, son of Baron Frederic. I demand you tell me why you're treating us like criminals."
The guard eyed Eruin, noting the difference in his attire from the others before replying coldly, "We have orders to search everything. We don't know if you're hiding an enemy in those carriages. Even if you're a baron's son, I have my orders from Count Edwin. Now, step back."
Getting no further information, Eruin stormed back to his family. "These shitheads..."
"Hey, what's this?" one of the guards searching a nearby carriage shouted, drawing the attention of others. "What in the hell is that?"
"I don't know, but… my best guess is that it's a weapon." The group watched as the guard raised a crossbow into the air. "Call the commander, he needs to see this." A soldier ran to the group stationed by the gates.
"They found our crossbows," Ella said, her voice tinged with concern.
'Shit, they're definitely confiscating them, and they're going to ask us how to make more,' Rafael thought. He noticed Eruin turning toward the guards and quickly grabbed his arm. "Wait, leave them. This isn—"
"What? Get your hands off me, you peasant!" Eruin snapped, yanking his arm free. "Don't think you can order me around just because you married her. These are our things, our weapons! They can't take them!" His voice was filled with anger, pointing first at Rafael and then at the soldiers.
"Eruin, stop! We shouldn't—" Ella tried to reason with her brother, but he ignored her. They watched in apprehension as he marched toward the guards, who were still analyzing the crossbows.
"Ella, do something! I'm scared," Adelaide whispered, clutching her sister's hand. Ella looked to Rafael, worry etched on her face.
sigh
"Bella, go call the commander, now." She nodded and hurried off just as a commotion broke out. Eruin was on the ground, trying to get up after being punched and kicked.
'It's just a crossbow, you idiot! Why risk our lives over this? We can make more whenever we want!' Rafael cursed silently, quickly moving to help Eruin up and dragging him away, noticing that some of the soldiers looked ready to do more than just rough him up.
"Hey, what did you say?" Two soldiers approached them. "You said these things were yours? What are they, and who are you?" one of them asked, eyeing Rafael's attire with suspicion.
"Get off me!" Eruin shoved Rafael aside. "I am Eruin, son of Baron Frederic, and you have no right to search our things!" His face was flushed, his hair disheveled, and his clothes dirty.
The soldiers exchanged glances. "Do you have proof of what you're saying?" one of them asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"And you just claimed that weapon is yours. We'll ask one last time—what is it?" the other soldier added, his hand also on his sword.
"It's a crossbow, and it shoots arrows," Rafael answered, meeting Eruin's glare, which was filled with betrayal.
"A cross-bow? What the hell are you talking about? Come here and show us how it works."
They dragged Rafael toward the group of soldiers, while Eruin stood back, seething. "You brought a traitor into our family! This is your fault!" he spat at his sister.
"You ungrateful bastard! Rob—Rafael just saved you!" Ella shot back, her voice trembling with emotion.
Eruin ignored her and stormed off. "Bella, what should we do?" Adelaide asked, her voice small.
Bella, standing beside her in servant's clothes, wore an equally worried expression. She shook her head. "I don't know, milady."
Rafael was pushed into the middle of the soldiers. "Now, explain to us how to use this."
'This is the first and last time I save that guy,' Rafael thought grimly.
Rafael took the crossbow from one of the men and quickly demonstrated how to use it. With practiced ease, he locked the string back, placed a wooden dart in position, and took aim at the wooden doors of the wall.
Click
The released dart flew through the air and struck the door with a solid thud, drawing the attention of everyone around.
"Wow!" Several soldiers exclaimed in surprise.
"How strong must it be to nail that arrow to the door like that?" another one marveled.
"Hey, let me try that!" A soldier eagerly took the weapon from Rafael and began rearming it, while others clamored to have a turn.
Rafael seized the opportunity as the soldiers became engrossed in the crossbow. Slipping away unnoticed, he made his way back to Ella and the others, noting that Avice had now joined them.
"Rafael, are you okay?" Ella asked, concern etched on her face.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. How did it go with the Count?" he inquired, noticing the somber and exhausted expression on Avice's face.
"Right at the start, he proposed a preposterous deal that I refused outright. I countered with a more reasonable offer, but even a mutually beneficial deal wasn't good enough for that..." Her voice trembled with anger, struggling to find words to describe Count Edwin.
At some point, a message arrived about what was happening outside with you all. That's when both of us knew who had won."
"But what did he ask for? What was his deal?" Rafael pressed.
"All our weapons are his now. All the horses too, except the ones pulling the carriages, and half of our savings as well." Avice's voice grew quieter with each word, as the reality of their situation sank in. The four women stood in silence, trying to come to terms with the hopelessness of it all.
"That's it? And when are we leaving?" Rafael asked. It was indeed a bad deal, but he felt a small sense of relief that they weren't being taken as prisoners.
"That's it? Can't you see we've lost everything?" Avice's voice rose in frustration, unable to comprehend Rafael's reaction.
"We haven't lost everything," Rafael countered, his voice steady. "We still have everyone, and we're free to leave. We just need to resupply and get away from here."
The women looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. To them, losing their home was akin to a death sentence. For those who had lost an entire city—the place where they were born and had lived their entire lives—this was the worst fate imaginable.
But for Rafael, who lost his entire original universe and time line, that was something really small.
Life was proving once again that there was always a new low. Yet somehow, the young man in front of them wasn't showing any signs of despair. He was calm.
The entire group of refugees from Calistoga was led by the city guards to an open area where they could set up camp. Following Rafael's advice, Avice gave a brief speech to rekindle a spark of hope among them.
Afterward, she organized a group to accompany her toward the inner circle, where all the supplies awaited them.
The day was hot, with clouds occasionally blocking the sun. The camp was set up on the city's fringes, near the outer walls. As the residents of Fritsburg passed by, they looked at the refugees with clear prejudice.
The war hadn't yet reached this part of the kingdom, but its ripples were already felt. Prices were rising, and hundreds of men were being summoned to the front lines. The pressure of knowing their lands were being invaded had everyone on edge, snapping at the smallest things.
Fear and paranoia gripped the people, leading them to act with extreme selfishness and suspicion toward anyone who wasn't a native of Fritsburg.
Anyone who tried to speak with or approach a citizen was met with hostility, screamed at, or shoved away. The tension escalated when the citizens saw the outsiders returning from the city center, carrying large boxes and bags to the wagons.
An old woman approached one of the wagons but was stopped by soldiers, now without armor or weapons, guarding it.
"May you burn in hell, you devil! What's inside those boxes? Are you stealing our food? Are you taking our children in those bags to commit your profanities?!" The woman's shrill accusations quickly drew the attention of others.
"It's none of your business, now step back!" one of the soldiers snapped.
"You're not pushing me away! I know you're the enemy! Guards! Guards, the enemy is inside our walls!" the woman shouted, her voice growing louder and more hysterical.
"We are not the enemy!" the soldier shouted back, trying to calm the situation, but it wasn't enough. The crowd began to grow, with people cursing and shouting at each other.
"Everyone stop! Calm down!" Two priests stepped in between the clashing sides before the situation spiraled further out of control.
'Finally, they're doing something,' Rafael thought as he observed from afar, with Ella standing beside him.
"These people… maybe my father was right about the commoners," she murmured, her voice tinged with disdain.
Rafael placed a reassuring hand on Ella's shoulder, his voice gentle. "Don't say that. They're just afraid, with the war going on. We're in the same boat as them." He tried to shift her perspective, though her disdain lingered as they both watched the crowd, now captivated by the two priests.
"Priests, help us! These demons are stealing everything we have left!" a woman cried out, her voice trembling with desperation.
"Stop this nonsense!" one of the priests commanded, his voice firm but compassionate. "We are refugees from Calistoga, not thieves. Everything here was bought with money, not taken by force."
"But...," the woman faltered, her anger clashing with uncertainty.
"Can't you see?" the other priest continued. "We are your brothers and sisters, your friends and allies. We're traveling to the capital to help our king defend this land."
Gradually, the crowd began to settle, the priests' words soothing the tension in the air.
'They do have the gift of the word,' Rafael thought, a hint of irony in his mind. 'If only they used it in favor of science, everything could be so much easier.'
With the immediate danger averted, Rafael decided to pass the time by speaking with Tresch and the other two mathematicians. They were deep in conversation when a group of soldiers appeared, scanning the camp as if searching for someone.
"There! Hey you! Come with us," one of them barked, pointing directly at Rafael.
'Why is it always me?' Rafael sighed inwardly but complied, following the soldiers. "What's the matter?" he asked, though he received only a terse response.
"Silence. The commander and Count Edwin are summoning you."
They walked for about ten minutes until they reached the entrance to the inner circle. The city within was a stark contrast to the outskirts, filled with grand buildings and bustling streets. After passing through, they continued walking until they stood before a large, imposing building.
'Calistoga is still far from reaching the size of this city. Even the barracks here are almost as big as Frederic's mansion,' Rafael thought, taking in the scale of everything around him. He glanced to the side and saw the castle where Cuthred lived—a stone fortress with two high towers, imposing and formidable.
"Keep walking," the soldier behind him ordered. They led him to an open area where a group of soldiers surrounded three other people—two men and one woman. Rafael quickly realized why he had been summoned.
"Sir, this is the man my soldiers told me about. You, state your name," a commanding voice demanded.
"I'm Rafael." He met Avice's gaze and saw her give a subtle nod.
"Do you know what this is?" The commander took a crossbow from a nearby soldier—one of the three made back in Calistoga, intended to change the course of their battle before time ran out.
"Yes," Rafael replied evenly.
"How, and who made this?" A thin man with black hair and dressed in fine clothes stepped forward—Count Edwin.
'So, that must be Count Edwin…' Rafael thought, assessing the man.
Before Rafael could answer, Avice stepped in. "This is a special weapon created by my husband. His ingenuity was leagues ahead of anyone."
"Frederic created this? And who made these three?" the commander asked, curiosity piqued.
"It was one of our blacksmiths. It took him days to make just one," Avice answered.
"Wait, what? Did you say it took days to make this?" the other man echoed, dumbfounded by the complexity and effort involved.
'It's good that they're ignoring me...' Rafael thought, content to stay in the background.
"I'll give you five gold pieces for these and five more for your blacksmith," Count Edwin suddenly proposed.
"Not in a hundred lifetimes. These aren't for sale, especially not my people!" Avice's voice was firm and unyielding.
"We are at war, my dear," Edwin said, stepping closer and touching her face with unsettling familiarity. "We need every advantage we can get. What will the king say when he learns you're hiding such a valuable weapon? Countless lives are lost each day—lives that could be saved by this."
He brushed his thumb over her lips, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in. "Now that you've lost your city and your husband, your title of Baron is to be revoked, and your family will live on the streets like peasants… But…" He paused, stepping back slightly to draw everyone's attention. "I can change that. I can help your family retain your title. All I ask in return is this: I want the people who made this."
'Come on, come ooonn… Say yes!' Rafael silently urged her. To him, the crossbow was insignificant compared to the bigger picture. They had other skills, other resources—they could afford to give this up.
Avice glanced at Rafael, noticing his slight nod of approval. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke, "Fine, I accept. The blacksmith and these pieces are yours, but you will have to uphold your part of the deal."
"You made the right choice," Count Edwin said, casting a fleeting glance toward Rafael, his lips curling into a knowing smile.
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