Ludwig smiled. “So I will have to do it myself.”
CHAPTER
36
The general took another step forward as he flicked a finger in command at the archers. Without looking, Ludwig heard the “whoosh” as all the bows ignited in the hands of the men before they could loose their arrows, and then the sounds of the weapons rattling against the cobblestone as they were thrown to the ground before they could burn the hands of the archers. He never took his gaze from the general’s increasingly red face.
But he did lift a finger of his own, pointing.
“What’s that, there, General? At the corner of your mouth. It looks like you are bleeding.”
The man was so angry that he hadn’t even noticed yet.
“What?”
Ludwig gestured again. “There, at the corners of your mouth. Isn’t that blood starting to run down your chin?”
The general swiped at his jaw and looked down at his hand to see it covered in blood.
“You seem to have caught a disease, or something. I believe I do recall hearing about some sort of illness that has been befalling people. Quite painful, from the accounts I’ve heard.”
The officers to either side began stepping forward, but Ludwig shot them a glare. “I don’t think you want to get close to the man. He looks quite infectious.” He lifted a cautionary finger. “It could possibly be the plague. I would hate for anyone else to catch the horrifying sickness your commanding general appears to have contracted.”
The officers paused, uncertain about what to do.
The soldiers stared in horror at the man. The general’s face was almost as red as the strings of blood that had begun dripping from his chin.
“Dreier!” the general shouted. “How dare you…”
His voice trailed off in a choking gurgle.
“I am so sorry to have to tell you, General, but your symptoms appear to match the terrible disease I’ve been hearing about. When I heard the stories, I had thought it might be nothing more than the rumors of country folk, but those rumors appear to be proving true. From what I have been told, it comes on swiftly, first with sores bursting open in the mouth and throat. Such sores are said to bleed profusely.”
The general’s hands went to his throat. His eyes looked nearly ready to pop from his head. Blood splattered all over the wet cobblestones at his feet.
“From what I’ve heard of this disease,” Ludwig said as he turned his eyes skyward while tapping his chin as if trying to recall, “the second set of symptoms set in quite rapidly.”
“What—” The man coughed out a spray of blood, unable to ask what symptoms.
“I’ve heard that soon after the sores burst, the bones themselves that have become brittle from the malady start breaking. It is said that the ones holding up the most weight, like the leg bones, go first.”
A loud snap echoed around the courtyard. It was quickly followed by a second. As both of his lower legs broke, the general dropped heavily to his knees.
“From what I’ve heard tell,” Ludwig went on, “it quickly becomes a rapid progression from there to the embrittled bones all over the body breaking. Quite a horrifying thought, actually, considering how many bones there are in the human body. I’m afraid that I don’t know the number, but I’ve heard there are a lot of them.”
Ludwig turned to the men in ranks to his left. “Any of you know the number of bones in the human body?”
They all shook their heads.
Ludwig shrugged. “Well, don’t hold me to it, but I seem to recall that the number might be over a hundred, possibly two.”
All the men now hung on his every word. They watched in horror as their general held his throat while vomiting blood.
Intermittently, more loud snaps reverberated through the drizzle of the courtyard. The general collapsed onto his side.
“Quite painful, I heard tell, the way they just keep breaking, one at a time,” Ludwig said. He let out a deep sigh. “I think I recall hearing that the next thing that happens is that the mere act of breathing is too much for the now brittle bones of the ribs, and they all break.”
With that, there is a rapid, ripping succession of pops, like a fistful of dry twigs snapping.
The general gasped and choked as his feet kicked wildly at the end of broken legs. His muscles could no longer move his broken limbs properly, so the effort made them flop around.
“Well, now,” Ludwig said in feigned, concerned observation, “you do seem to exhibit the symptoms I’ve heard about. You seem to have contracted the plague of fools.”
The men, standing in stiff panic, glanced at one another, not knowing what to do, not daring to move as they watched their general going through the terrifying throes of a painful death.
“Enough of this,” Ludwig said, his patience spent.
He flicked out a hand.
In the gloom of the drizzly afternoon, there was a dull red flash deep within the general’s chest that could be seen through his body and heavy uniform. In an instant the man’s flesh turned black as coal. In the next instant his blackened body seemed to break apart from great pressure and disintegrate into small black nuggets looking something like fragments of charcoal. In the next heartbeat that body, now nothing but blackened bits, crumbled and poured out of the openings in the man’s uniform. Some of the dark, jagged pieces of what had been General Dobson tumbled out, bouncing across the cobblestones.
Everyone stood rigid and still, unsure just what they should do. It was now time for Lord Dreier to offer them the choice he had just so carefully crafted.
Ludwig folded his wrists over the horn of his saddle. “Who is next in command?”
Two of the remaining officers took a step away from the third officer left in the middle. He glanced at the men to either side as they distanced themselves from him.
He finally swallowed and said, “I guess that would be me, Lord Dreier. I am Lieutenant Wolsey.”
Ludwig smiled. “It would seem, Lieutenant, that the citadel guard of the Fajin army is in need of a general. I appoint you. Congratulations, General Wolsey.”
The man blinked in surprise, but he hesitated only for an instant before clapping a fist to his heart and bowing deeply. He knew his life had been spared—at least for the moment.
He made his choice. “Thank you, Lord Dreier.”
“Let us all pray that you and your men do not contract the same fatal disease afflicting your former general. I would hate for any more of you to fall ill. You are feeling healthy, aren’t you, General? You are in good shape and prepared to carry out your duties?”
The man nodded furiously. “Yes, of course, Lord Dreier. I am healthy and totally prepared to carry out my duties under your command. How may my men and I be of assistance?”
Ludwig glanced to the side. “Well, it appears my archers will need new bows. Theirs fortunately fell apart before the men could accidentally do something stupid—like getting themselves burned.”
“Not a problem, Lord Dreier,” Wolsey quickly put it. “We have a stock of bows, as well as bow makers and fletchers. I will take care of it immediately so that they are properly armed and can man their positions defending you and the citadel.”
Ludwig looked over at the archers. “Is that acceptable to you men?”
They all jumped to attention and clapped fists to hearts.
“Anything else I can do to be of assistance, Lord Dreier?” the new general asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. You see, the bishop has gone off on an adventure of some sort.” Ludwig wagged a hand vaguely toward the southwest. His nose wrinkled with distaste. “I’m afraid that he is destined not to return, so I am now in command of the citadel. I realize that all you men here have wisely chosen to be loyal to me, but you need to see to it that the staff and the rest of the soldiers and guards are made aware of the new head of household.”
“At once, Lord Dreier,” the man said as he bowed.
Ludwig leaned forward