Chapter 151: Escape

Horace sat in his room, packing the final document he needed. Carefully closing the bag, he looked at the house across the street. All his subordinates who didn’t have permanent roles within the Commonwealth had already left, and now it was his turn. He gave a little smile, thinking about that. He was thankful for the Commonwealth. He was finally able to put his skills to the test. But he knew that things would become too dangerous now. Either way, he didn’t mind; he had already achieved everything he had set out to.

Putting the bag with his stuff on the table, he grabbed a couple of bottles of alcohol and began to pour them all over the floor. Next, he grabbed the candle oil and poured it everywhere. Seeing everything douced in liquid, he smiled and grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He stuffed a dagger up his sleeve. With one final look, he grabbed the candle on the wall next to the door and threw it in the room, turning his back and quickly leaving.

Although he had to leave, he had one more thing to take care of. He ran deeper into the city and arrived at a small manor. He didn’t bother being polite anymore and walked straight in. The guards who had gotten used to seeing him didn’t bother stopping him, thinking the count summoned him. Horace walked through the halls, heading straight for his office. He knew the man liked to get drunk at night, and he would most definitely be with his stash.

Opening the door, the stunned face of Count Chimel looked at him before contorting into anger. "Who let you in? Get out!" He screamed, pointing his finger at him, but Horace remained unmoving.

"Forgive me. This is an urgent matter." Horace still played his part and gave a polite bow. "I was just wondering if your plans in the west have started." Horace worded the assassination in a certain way, and Chimel clicked his tongue.

"You shouldn’t talk about that so openly." It was enough. He and Piast’s men had slowly fed the idea of Snowid having too much power to Chimel. He had come to believe the killing was his own plan. Seeing he was made aware, it seemed Piast had told him it was happening. "If that is the case, Count, I am here to tell you that I will be going into hiding for a while. Things have gotten too dangerous."

Horace bowed, and Chimel clicked his younger once more. "Coward." He had found Horace useful before, but now he was nothing but a rival to him. Chimel wasn’t too sad about him leaving. He looked up at him, and seeing his face, he squinted his eyes. "You look... different." He couldn’t put his finger on it, and seeing Horace’s smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he frowned.

Horace wasn’t shocked. He hadn’t made any attempts to change his appearance, so it was the first time he had seen it. "Maybe you have drunk too much," Horace said jokingly, and Chimel looked at the wine in his hand, putting the bottle down.

"Maybe." He scoffed. "Anyway, if you’re here to say goodbye, then leave already." His tone was full of arrogance, and Horace bowed, taking his leave. With all his affairs cleared up, he could vanish. Chieml looked down at his wine and shook his head. Getting up, he stumbled to his room.

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Horace ran through the alleys of Torun. Aleksander had become his biggest threat, staying here, having people watch and come after him occasionally. Now was a time when he couldn’t let anyone know where he was going, and made what should have been a simple journey to his carriage, convoluted. Despite this, it was a necessary thing, and he arrived without any troubles.

Next to the City walls, he saw an unmarked old carriage waiting for him. Relaxing was the driver who peeked under his hat at the approaching man. "Shall we?" Horace said calmly, and the man sat up, stretching and nodding. Throwing the bag in the back, Horace pulled his hood up and took his seat, pulling the curtain. He knew from his men that the man taking him was a respected smuggler and had no doubt about being caught anymore.

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Anger. It was the only emotion that could be seen in Henryk’s eyes as he looked at his dead son. He crouched down and reached out with shaking eyes as he flipped his body, seeing the long, painful cut across his neck. His breathing intensified as an aura of pure fury surrounded his body.

The guard who came with him took a step back, never having seen such a sight from the man. "Who did this?" He could barely get the words out of his gritted teeth. His fist curled in anger, and he swung his head back. "Where are his guards?" The chill that radiated from his sons froze the two, but they quickly gulped to suppress it.

"They have been brought in for questioning." One said, bowing. Henryk turned back to his son’s dead body and slowly picked it up, tears of anger welling up in his eyes. He gave a look to the small boy in the bed who had not been moved since the murder. A cruel thought came to his mind, but he stopped himself, seeing the boy look at him with a bright smile. One that reminded him of his own sons as a child.

"Bring the child." Henryk gave his order and walked out. He didn’t look back as he gently held the body of his son. Many saw the commotion, and an old butler walked up to Henryk.

"Word has already spread, your Grace." Despite the situation, he remained dedicated to his job, but seeing the dead body, the eyes of the old man softened in sadness. Henryk took one deep breath and looked at the old man.

"Can we stop it?" As much as he didn’t want to talk business, he had no choice. To his question, the old butler could only shake his head. "Find who did this. And bring them to me." He gave his order while walking ahead. The old Butler watched as the duke softly placed the body of his son in a casket, stroking his hair once more before closing it.

Turning his head, he saw a woman who had lost the light in her eyes. The redness around them showed how much she had been crying. Despite this, tears still rolled down her cheeks. The Old butler reached into his pocket, pulling a small handkerchief for her. "I know your pain, but tell me everything you know." It wasn’t a secret to anyone in Dukedom that Izaak had a lover, but it was a secret that was tightly guarded. The only unaccounted thing was his son.

Klara looked up, taking the handkerchief and wiping her eyes. "I don’t know anything. He came over, and when I went to get him for dinner, I found him dead." Her hands shook as she covered her face once more. The old butler could see she wasn’t lying and shook his head. Seeing the young boy being walked out by the guards, he frowned. The child being alive was strange.

He shook his head brushing it off. Some killers couldn’t bring themselves to hurt children, and he assumed it was another case. "We have some information." A guard came over and gave a polite bow to the butler. He turned instantly, and Klara looked up with hope. "A suspicious man had been around for a couple of days. The villagers brushed it off as someone who was escaping the invasion at first, but he has disappeared now."

"Get a sketch drawn now. Have men spread into the forest and the roads to find any traces?" The old butler fired his orders as he walked off to the carriage. He watched as Klara chased after her son and gave a nod to the guard holding the boy; she was let into the carriage with him. Deep down, he smiled. This was Dabrowski’s land. The killer would not escape.

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A couple of days passed, and Horace arrived on the coast of the Commonwealth. The driver had been anxious the closer they got but sucked it up seeing the amount of gold Horace was willing to pay. Riding, however, he saw the image of a ship in the distant waters. He was not dumb enough to know what it entailed and stopped the carriage quickly.

"This is as far as I go." He called back, pulling the curtain to show. Horace looked at the flag and seeing it was black instead of red, he smiled.

"That’s fine." Horace grabbed his bag, swung it over his shoulder, and jumped off. Walking around, he reached into his pocket but quickly pulled out his arm, the dagger slipping down his sleeve. His actions were quick, and by the time the driver realised what had happened, the blade was deep into his chest. "It’s nothing personal. But no one can know I was here." Horace took the dagger back out and wiped the blood on the driver’s clothes.

He slipped it back up his sleeve and carried on down to the shore. He looked out of place wearing a nice suit and walking on the dirt track. He wasn’t far and, seeing smoke coming from the beach, he knew that he had made perfect timing. It wasn’t smoke from destruction but a simple fire for personal use. Walking closer, he tactfully hid, scouting it. However, after a few seconds, he sighed in relief. None of them were Commonwealth soldiers.

Walking out, he purposefully made noise to attract their attention and lifted his hands. All turned in his direction, weapons drawn, but seeing one person, they only looked confused, slightly lowering their weapons. "I work for your employer." Horace lowered some of his fingers, and only one was raised as he reached into his pocket. Pulling out a symbol of the Imperial family, he threw it to the one who walked forward.

Catching it in mid-air, he looked at the symbol of the Lidonfall family. Analysing the jewel, he could tell it was real. Raising his hand, he lowered his men’s weapons. "Why are you here? I thought we were meant to have no contact."

Whilst the subordinates of the man didn’t know what he was on about, all those who were captains of ships had been told in full by Oberon about the nature of their mission. Many loved it, knowing that they were simply paid to do what they had already done, causing some goodwill toward the Empire.

Horace could see the tension in the man’s eyes ease a little, and it caused him to smile. "I need a ride home." Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out a bag of coins and threw it over. "Consider this payment." Horace felt annoyed about this being the only way home, but with the death of Izaak, he knew that crossing the border would be near impossible. He could only wonder if his men would be able to escape, and knew they deserved a pay rise if they did.

The captain passed the bag to one of his subordinates, who took out a coin and bit down on it. "It’s real." The captain nodded at his words and threw back the imperial seal to Horace. He caught it with great care and carefully put it back. It was one thing he had asked Alfred for in advance. He didn’t know if he would ever need it, but he felt it was safer if he did. Luckily, his request was granted.

"We are eating right now. You must wait." Horace shrugged his shoulders and walked down the beach next to them and took a seat. He was lucky he met the crew of Oberon and not Gage, or he was sure that he would already be dead. Looking into the clear sky, he scoffed.’Never would I have thought I would sit with pirates.’Looking back down at them he could see why they were so effective. Their equipment was nothing to scoff at, and their appearances alone could strike fear into anyone, let alone what they could do to enhance it. Seeing them a small idea came to mind.’Maybe the Empire should have some of their own.’