Chapter 22 August 406 AD Flattop Mountain-Cause and Effect

            As the young soldiers surged forward to protect their King, Shimbir couldn’t believe his nightmare was about to be over. He felt like he must be dreaming. When he fired those rounds, he hoped that perhaps he could be set free from the gilded cage he was trapped in, but as he watched the young soldiers charge at his order, he thought perhaps he would really become the King of Paulsland, not just in title, but also in authority.

A couple of weeks ago, when the nameless manager said that he was taking Shimbir to sell one of the family's steam weapons, Shimbir never expected the nameless manager to actually allow him to hold the weapon, much less demonstrate its use. Sure, he dreamed the nameless manager would be dumb enough to let him hold the weapon, but he didn’t think he would be dumb enough to let him. When Shimbir was handed the weapon, he felt complete disbelief, and he had to fire one of its rounds at the prepared target to see if the nameless manager had actually given him a live weapon. Once he fired that one shot, he knew what he had to do: he had to let the world know he was a captive.

            With that in mind, he started yelling, “ARE YOU LOYAL TO THE KING!” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. Shimbir didn’t care what the crowd of soldiers said in response; in fact he didn’t even hear their answer. He hoped somebody in Paulsland would be loyal to the throne and be drawn to him if they saw that statement in the newspapers. After a moment's pause, he made the second statement that sounded like a question, “WILL YOU OBEY YOUR KING!” Whether the people in the crowd would or wouldn’t didn’t matter to Shimbir; in a country as big as Paulsland, Shimbir had faith that someone had to believe in obedience to the ivory throne and try to save him. Again, he paused as the newly minted soldiers answered, before sending the last message that sounded like a question, “WILL YOU PROTECT YOUR KING!” He knew someone would, as long as the message got out, whether they were here or not was up to fate. With thousands of people watching, and dozens of reporters and camaramen here something had to get out even if the reporting was mostly false.

            As he gave his message, which sounded like questions, the nameless manager frowned. Then the manager moved his hand to signify where he burned Shimbir’s monkey and indicated he would do it again. Shimbir knew the nameless was upset with him for going off script, but the fool didn’t recognize that Shimbir held a dangerous weapon. Whether it was because he thought Shimbir was cowed or didn’t recognize how dangerous the weapon Shimbir held was, Shimbir would never know because he lifted the weapon, pointed it at the nameless manager, and fired five shots. Shimbir felt no guilt as he shot the man. That man had ordered the beating of Hani, his maid, and made him watch helplessly as a woman whom Shimbir felt more love for than his own mother was beaten. The only regret Shimbir felt as the man died was that he wouldn’t get to skin the nameless manager alive and salt his wounds.

            It took nearly a second for Shimbir to pull the triger five times. He didn’t even remember pulling the trigger after the first time. Each one of the bullets went through the nameless manager and caused damage to the stage, albeit they didn’t hit anyone else. Nobody noticed this detail as everyone was shocked by this action. Everyone was expecting a demonstration, not an execution, and so everyone paused. Normally, someone would react rather quickly in response to such violence, even if there was a momentary pause, but in this case, the King was the executioner, and that created a much longer pause. If a random person attacked someone, then the crowd would bring them down and take away their weapon, but when the leader of a nation does the same thing, what is a group of normal citizen supposed to do? Much less a soldier or guard that is supposed to serve the national leader?

Shimbir honestly expected the guards around him to immediately rush him and take away his weapon. When they didn’t, because the guards realized how bad that would look, and they were legitimately afraid he would point the weapon at him and fire, Shimbir thought that perhaps he may have lucked out and today may be the day he became free, so he yelled, “MY GUARDS ARE TRAITORS! PROTECT ME FROM THEM!”

Oddly enough, everyone was waiting for direction. If anyone at any level of authority had given orders before the King, the soldiers would have blindly obeyed because after such a surprising execution, every soldier felt like they needed to do something, but fate was on Shimbir’s side, he was the first to give orders, and so the young soldiers obeyed and rushed the stage.

The guards made the worst decision of their lives; they turned and ran as a mob of nearly twelve thousand young soldiers rushed the stage. If the guards had stood still, or fallen to the ground, they would simply have been taken into captivity, but with them running it proved to the young, mostly thirteen-year-old soldiers that they were part of a plot against their King. Their escape proved they were traitors.

As the soldiers nearest the stage chased after the King’s traitorous guards, one of the soldiers, Uamin, recognized he would never be able to catch up to the traitors, but the King was left undefended, so he sprinted to the King, and yelled out, “SURROUND THE KING! PROTECT HIM FROM THE TRAITORS!”

            Then Uamin turned to the King and asked, “Are you alright? Have the traitors hurt you? Do you need medical assistance?”

            Shimbir was surprised by the attention, and it had been more than a year since he had someone actually ask him questions. The nameless manager kept him isolated and just gave him commands. After a moment of consideration, Shinbir straightened his back, looked the youth in the eye and said, “I am fine; they dared not hurt me. They sought to control me by hurting those loyal to me and making me watch as they tortured my pets to death. If you would send someone to my carriage to protect my horse and my monkey.”

            Uamin was the oldest recruit in Flattop Mountain at this point, at fourteen, and so was used to being a bit of a leader. He turned and pointed at some recruits and said, “You ten run to the King’s carriage and protect the King’s pets from the traitors!”

            Twelve young men nodded and rushed toward the King’s carriage.

            As they left, Shimbir told Uamin, “Do not let any messages leave this place. I do not want the traitors at the capital to learn what is happening.”

            Uamin took out a mirror and sent a message toward the communication tower. The men in the tower were watching the parade ground with keen interest as it appeared to them that a riot broke out. Uamin’s message was simply, “By order of the King do not send any messages out. This order is to last until the King gives permission or the tower falls from age and decay.” Uamin may have exaggerated the King’s order, but when traitors were around it's better to be too thorough.

            Uamin turned back to his King and said, “The message is sent. Is there anything else I can do?”

            Up to this point Shimbir’s orders had come from necessity, but he was begging to relize he had actual authority. When he spoke these soldiers obeyed. It was honestly more than he expected, and he realized if he wanted to remain free he had to capitilize on it. After a moment of consideriation he said, “Yes, I am told that Busara, the head of the Illuminati, is here. Bring him here, I need to talk with him.”

            At this point, King Shimbir was surrounded by a very confused mob of soldiers, determined to both protect their King and kill the traitors. Albeit by now the traitors were already dead, chased down by a host of thirteen-year-olds, taken to the ground, where the thirteen-year-old soldiers took out their straight swords, found the seams in the traitorous guards' armor, and stabbed them to death. The youths were far too enamoured with the thought of killing the traitors to think of capturing them. As for the commanding officers of the youths, they recognized they had lost control and were trying to make their way through the throng to the King, but the confusion of the crowd made that impossible for the moment.

            Uamin couldn’t help but see the confusion of the soldiers around him so he brought his fingers to his mouth and made a very loud whistle. The nearby youths looked to him, and he yelled out, “BY THE ORDER OF OUR KING, SHIMBIR, BRING ALL MEMBERS OF THE ILLUMINATI TO THIS STAGE! PASS THE ORDER ON TO ANY WHO DID NOT HEAR IT!”

            And so the youths began shouting the order out, and before long, each recruit heard and repeated the order, before heading out to look for Illuminati members. Ironically, before every soldier heard the order, they had already found Busara, as he was near the stage.

            Busara looked frightened as he was led to Shimbir, and the youths made a point to stand between Busara and their King. Shimbir asked the man, “Is the Illuminati loyal to the throne?”

            Busara looked left and right, then back at Shimbir and said, “The Illuminati has always been loyal to the ivory throne.”

            Before Shimbir could ask more questions, one of the officers of Man Camp reached the King and asked, “How may I serve you?”

            Shimbir turned to the man, sized him up, and decided he didn’t trust him. Shimbir had no way to know if the man was loyal or not, and up to this point, Shimbir had been betrayed by most full-grown adults. Shimbir didn’t want the man near him, and yet he couldn’t let the man go away and work against him. After a long moment of consideration, he decided to put the man to work protecting his freedom long-term, and give him busy work so he couldn’t directly work against Shimbir.

With a plan in mind, Shimbir looked down at the man and said, “I am glad you arrived. I need you to separate the soldiers into two groups. Ask the soldiers if their parents or siblings work at one of the many corporations. Whether it’s a factory, shipping company, or something else, I don’t care.” An idea struck Shimbir for a second, then he said, “Make that three groups. If their family works for a corporation, ask them if they work for one partially owned by me. Put them in two different groups. If someone's family doesn’t work for any corporation, then put them in a third group.”

            “That may take some time.”

            Shimbir thought that was the point, but instead said, “That is fine, but put all the officers to work on this, as I don’t want it to take too much time. Busara here is going to take me to the top of Flattop Mountain, and I am going to view the hall King Paul left for future kings, with my new guards. I expect the three groups to be ready when I come back.”

            The officer looked bitter, but only said, “Yes, sir.” As the officer left he began shouting orders.

            As the officer began bringing order to chaos, Busara quietly told Shimbir, “Only the King and the Illuminati are allowed to look at that hall. Your guards cannot come in.”

            Shimbir looked to the tallest guard and asked, “What is your name?”

            “I am Uamin.”

            Shimbir asked, “Uamin, do your parents work for one of the many corporations?”

            “No, sir, they are farmers.”

            Shimbir looked back at Busara and asked, “Does the Illuminati serve the throne?”

            “Of course.”

            “Then Uamin is now part of the Illuminati, as are my other guards. They will guard me as I look at King Paul’s hall of mysteries.”