The Long March - Who Shall Rule?

Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament
Andrew Carrick Gow
(Source)

The Eminence regained his composure relatively quickly. After all, if these peasants intended to do him harm, they wouldn't need the thick bundle of papers he had imprudently left in a hidden compartment of his carriage. He had underestimated the abilities of his opponents. Of course, if he was truthful with himself, it had not been his job to evaluate his enemies in the past, his handlers had taken care of all that.

But if anything, the Eminence was a clever man. The mistake his handlers had made with the current ruler was choosing a man who, in the Eminence's estimation, was not only completely stupid and thoroughly corrupt, but a man with no imagination whatsoever. He had to be watched constantly. The Eminence had warned them of this, even his warning of "never underestimate his ability to f**k things up" had been leaked to the public. But in their arrogance they had ignored him, he doubted they would help him now. His usefulness was at an end.

"So, Your Eminence," the Judge asked with a sneer in his voice, "how do you plead?"

"To what Sir? I have yet to be made aware of what charge there is against me."

"High treason, for one thing!" barked the Prosecutor.

The Judge eyed the Prosecutor, who sat down, realizing that he was probably out of order. "Your Eminence, you have indeed been charged with treason, in that you have provided aid and comfort to the enemy ..."

"Which enemy would that be, Your Honor? At what time during the period I was in office or during my successor's time in office had Parliament declared war? Isn't a war necessary for treason to be a crime? Perhaps I operated in ways not approved by my political opponents, but that isn't treason. Not how I would define it at any rate, and, unlike you, I am a lawyer."

The Defender looked down at the Eminence, "I'd be very careful with your accusations of ..."

The Judge spoke again, waving one hand to silence the Defender, "We may not be lawyers, but we can read. The law does state that treason is a crime only during wartime. However, the law is rather unclear about what constitutes 'war.' Does Parliament have to declare it? The law is very clear that only Parliament can declare war. What isn't so clear is the situation we are in now. The Ruler has essentially outlawed Parliament by his actions in not letting them reconvene after the summer break. We are at war, an undeclared war because there is no Parliament in session which can declare war."

The Eminence shifted in his seat, "This war, are you referring to the rebellion in the south? This is a civil war in my estimation, we are fighting each other. To whom have I given succor? The rebels? No, I have simply done all in my power to  support ..."

"YOU AND YOUR ILK ARE THE MAIN CAUSE OF THE REBELLION!" the Judge roared.

Neither the Prosecutor or the Defender said a word. Cletus and the guard at the door, a fellow named Omar, didn't speak either. They all knew the Judge to be a quiet, thoughtful man. His outburst was out of character to say the least.

"What makes that a war?" the Eminence asked quietly, reasonably.

The Judge stood up, "People are killing each other ..."

"Which also happens in riots, it happens during the commission of certain crimes, do those constitute 'war' in your mind?"

The Eminence sounded reasonable, his voice tended to have a calming effect on those around him, one of the traits which had made him so electable in the first place, without the machinations of his handlers, behind the scenes. At least before his first term. His second bid for election had been much more contentious. Many of those who supported him the first time weren't as enamored of him as they had been. He had shown his true colors by then.

Still, it was a tool he could use to overawe these people he thought of as peasants.

The Judge sat back down, his face beet red, his anger barely under control. He tried to control his hatred of the man sitting before him. Any other man would have probably executed the Eminence out of hand, without even the pretense of a trial. But he wanted this to play out so that future generations would not be ashamed of what happened in this little tavern on a side street in the capital.

After a single volley of cannon fire, a white flag had fluttered from a window inside the palace. The main gate was in ruins, those inside the palace knew that it was only a matter of time before the guns would do the same to the palace itself. With the Ruler and his wife gone, there was no point to further resistance.

Magnus decided to go up to the palace himself with only a single aide. Cyrus had remonstrated with him, he was the leader after all. Magnus overruled him.

As they approached the palace, the main door opened and a man stepped out, holding a white handkerchief in his left hand, raised as a symbol of parley.

The man spoke, "I am the palace Chamberlain. The Ruler and those who adhere to his cause have fled. We who remain would like to surrender as we see no further need for bloodshed. Especially seeing that some of the regulars have joined the rebellion."

Magnus nodded, "I am Magnus, commander of the rebel forces in the capital city. I accept your surrender on one condition, you must tell me where the Ruler and his adherents have gone."

The Chamberlain nodded, "They have gone to the Ruler's private estate on Reed Lake. They left by a secret passageway which I can show you the entrance to."

"Very well, have those remaining in the palace muster here in the next 15 minutes. Or we shall bombard the palace itself."

The Chamberlain turned to the door and waved. A number of people came out, hands in the air. Magnus was surprised at the number of guardsmen among them. He had expected them to remain loyal to the Ruler. He guessed that having your leader flee an angry populace wasn't conducive to loyalty.

The Eminence sensed that the people in the room weren't quite sure of how to proceed. He decided to play on that indecision. "So you've captured me, from the sounds of things outside, the fighting may be over. I gather that means that your forces have ceased their attack on what I presume was the palace. My take is that your little revolution, at least here in the capital, has succeeded. Which of your cronies will be seizing power now? Have you thought of what comes next?"

The Prosecutor began to bluster, the Judge told him to sit down. "I believe we have won the war, the 'little' revolution as you called it. What happens elsewhere may or may not make any difference. We have the capital, which, to my way of thinking, is all we really need. As to what comes next, I don't know. I personally would recommended recalling Parliament and let them pick a successor based upon the law. But that's just me."

"Do you think it will be that easy?" The Eminence let his voice drip with scorn. He believed that these men were now cowed, frightened of what was to come. "It might be you on trial a month from now, perhaps even sooner."

The Judge sat quietly for a moment, then looked up. He tried to keep his face blank, but his eyes glittered with a look which made the Eminence's blood run cold.

"Mr. Defender, do you have anything else to offer in this person's defence?"

"I do not, Your Honor."

"Mr. Prosecutor, any recommendations as to sentence?"

"Yes, Your Honor, death."

"By what means?" the Judge asked, cocking an eyebrow at the Prosecutor.

The Prosecutor said, "The bayonet, in the street."

"Very well. I hereby sentence the defendant to death by bayonet, to be carried out immediately."

The Eminence sputtered, "By bayonet? This is outrageous! Is there no appeal, the death sentence hasn't been used in two decades ..."

"But it's still on the books." Cletus pointed out.

The Major stood as the man named Daniel dismounted and walked to him, hand outstretched in a gesture of good will. The Major took the hand, noting that Daniel had a firm grip.

They met on the road heading south towards the garrison, the Major learned later that the point was roughly midway between their position and the militia's. While he was awaiting the militia commander's arrival, he had had another message from the main column, they would be up within the next twelve hours.

"I presume you have a proposition?" the Major asked.

"I do. We now have a common enemy, I have also heard rumors from the north that the capital is under attack by our forces, the militia I mean. And we both know what is happening to the south. Why fight each other when our land is being invaded by outsiders?"

"You raise a good point, Daniel. But I cannot act independently, my column commander should be on scene by tomorrow, mid-morning at the latest. The best I can agree to is a cease fire between us."

"While the Meridionals ravage Garrison Town? While your forces are being assaulted in the garrison itself? You would wait?"

The Major thought for a moment, then he turned to the Sergeant, "Send a message to the Colonel, we have temporarily suspended hostilities with the rebel forces. In fact, we have joined forces to attack the Meridionals in hope of drawing off their attacks on the garrison."

The Sergeant went off to see to that, meanwhile the Major looked to the south, "I'm committed, do you have a plan?"

"My forces in the hills don't really have the staying power to fight the Meridionals in the open field, but ..."

"I could use my battalion to draw the enemy into the hills, would that be suitable?"

Daniel's grin was like that of a wolf spotting prey, "Yes, Major, that would work nicely. I shall ride back and prepare my people."

"We'll wait, what, an hour? Then get the Meridionals' attention." He drew out his map, looking  at it, he saw a feature he thought might work, Daniel saw it at the same time. "This ravine, will that work?"

Daniel nodded, "I shall have my people in place in two hours, no more."

"That gives me some time to start the festivities and draw them to you." The Major said with his own wolf-grin.

"Good hunting, Major!" Daniel called as he mounted his horse.

"Sergeant?"

"Message sent, Sir, two people, like the last one."

"The column better come up when they said they would ..."

"When they do, they'll fall upon the Meridional rear. Should be quite a party, Major." The Sergeant's blood was up.

"Well then, Sarge, let's do this."

The Eminence was shaking, he was still bound but was on his feet now. His guard was leading him outside, into the street. He was still in disbelief, they couldn't possibly be planning to kill him. This was some elaborate ruse, perhaps they wanted to frighten him into revealing his handlers. Could he give them up? Perhaps, if they would spare his life ...

"I can tell you who was behind my election, who made sure that my successor got into office, I will tell you ..."

One of the guards, there were more now, shoved him against a lamppost. "Zip it buddy, no one cares."

"But this information will ..."

"Look around pal, do you see anyone who gives a shit?"

The Eminence frantically looked around. The Judge was gone, so were the other two men present at his trial. Even the big guard, the one who had smacked him twice, was nowhere to be seen.

"But I have ..."

Another man seized the Eminence and pressed him hard against the lamppost. He felt rope being passed around his torso, as the bonds tightened he began to panic.

"This is wrong, you must ..."

One guard hit him in the face with the butt of his rifle. The Eminence felt teeth loosen, he managed to stay conscious, but his head rang from the blow. He heard one of the men speak.

"Shouldn't we at least blindfold him?"

"No, please, I ..."

The Eminence gasped as he felt something sharp press into his flesh, then enter. He was trying to get away from the pain soaring within his abdomen, his feet scrabbled for purchase as he tried desperately to back away from the bayonet.

Another pierced his chest, he sobbed in anguish, how could this be happening, how ...

"Think he's dead?"

"Yep, he ain't moving, that's for sure."

"What did they tell you to do with the body?"

"Nothing, I say we leave it. Don't know what else to do with it."

"We could throw it in the river, it's just over there." the man gestured across the street. The river did flow close by.

"You want to drag him over there, go for it. I'm going to rejoin my unit. We're staying at the palace I'm told, gotta be lots of good loot over there."

"Yeah, okay. The heck with it, let's go."

The men headed away, leaving the corpse of what had once been the most powerful man in the land slumping from a lamppost, on a deserted street.