Chapter 559: Revolt!
"Citizens of the Vardish Empire! We, your god-blessed emperor, have heard about the terrible situation that destroyed many fields outside your city. Fear not, for we will not let you go hungry. There are more fields in the Vardish Empire, and they will feed us all until this new plague is dealt with. Do not gather in mobs or create trouble, or you will be punished by the imperial law."
The herald’s voice, much clearer and stronger than the emperor’s, carried easily over the square.
At first, those who heard it let out exhales of relief. There were some hopeful clicks of jaws and hooking of fingers.
Indeed, the Vardish Empire didn’t start or end in Ferwall! Although many regions fell entirely to the plagues and the wildlife, there were plenty of villages that still grew or hunted for food they could share with this city.
At least, people thought this before Ramwill spoke up.
"What other fields?! This is bullshit! Villages and towns outside can barely feed themselves; they won’t have food to spare for this entire city!"
Ramwill’s shout attracted the attention of both citizens and the guards. A couple of them immediately began pushing through the crowd toward him, but the people weren’t keen on letting them pass.
Then, Ramwill’s words were echoed by his Wildmen in this massive crowd of at least two thousand people. They fuelled the fire of anger even more, spreading it even to those people who had never heard Ramwill’s preaching before.
"How is the emperor going to deal with the ice weed? His exterminators can barely keep it out of the city! It will spread to these other fields, too!"
"The emperor is just feeding us placations so he doesn’t have to feed us food!"
"Take the food from the emperor!"
"Take the food from the rich!"
"Take the emperor! Take the rich! Take the food!"
"YES! TAKE THE EMPEROR!" Ramwill shouted.
The crowd was now at its angriest. They chanted this like a prayer.
The guards shouted back. They raised their spears, about to beat the rebellion down in its roots—and the crowd fought back.
Ramwill told his people and his allies to bring weapons. Those who weren’t in on the plot were mostly weaponless, but most of them were just as angry.
The crowd was a wave, and Ramwill directed it.
"We can storm the palace! They don’t expect it! All the guards are outside!" he shouted, running to the herald’s stage. "My men, take up your arms!"
The herald yelped in protest when Ramwill shoved him off the stage, but didn’t even really protest. The man preferred to run toward the palace while he could, only to be stopped at the gates.
They were locked now, and despite the herald’s knocking, the guards on the other side refused to let him in.
Ramwill found it pretty funny, but he was too focused on this rebellion to think about it.
This was an euphoric rush like no other! A feeling he felt only when he got a winning combination at cards, or when his boys were setting an ambush on a truly rich caravan.
But today was even bigger. He was about to get himself the emperor’s throne! Impossible for a lowborn person like him in any other circumstances, but there were faerie spirits on his side this time, and Ramwill didn’t care if they would ask for his soul later.
"Get weapons! Fight! Break the gates!" he shouted. "Bring a ram here! There are enough of us, we can ram the gates open!"
The guards quickly fell under the onslaught of the crowd. If they weren’t downed by weapons or ran away in panic, they were stung by bees—something a person could only notice if he was watching for it and already knew the scream of a person in pain from a bee-pixie’s sting.
Soon, a ram was brought by some Wildmen, which was prepared beforehand—a large bar of living stone with handles attached to it. A dozen robust men began pushing it into the gates, while some other Wildmen turned the angry mob into something more coherent.
The mob had not only men, but also women, elders, and even some children. Ramwill believed that he wasn’t too terrible, so his people were urging them to leave. Some cowards left, too.
There were still a good thousand people itching to storm the palace, and when the gates broke under the attacks of the ram, they all charged into the narrow opening.
The guards opened them on the other side—and died almost immediately.
The bee-pixies were ensuring that the attack was as smooth as it could possibly be. And since the front of the crowd consisted mostly of Ramwill’s people, nobody noticed that something was wrong.
They were just cheering at their easy successes
"We did it!" Ramwill shouted. "Let’s move up! Our target is the emperor!"
The mob rushed through the outside garden—a garden of rocks, how pathetic for an emperor!—and into the palace itself, killing even more guards who tried to block their way.
Now they were hungering not only for food, but also for all the other riches of this place. For the gold that adorned its walls and doors, for the expensive dresses of the empress’s handmaidens, for silver candelabras...
The emperor’s palace was a massive construction, but Ramwill knew where the emperor was at the moment. He didn’t care if some people would move away from the main crowd and start marauding here.
The bee-pixies would find all the wrongdoers later, anyway, if they even managed to escape with loot in the first place. After all, only near Ramwill, his bee-bodyguards were killing people from the shadows.
Instead, Ramwill led the crowd—and his people—directly to the upper floors of the palace. More guards were gathering to block his way, but their number was really pathetic.
Mere dozens that barely gathered into hundreds. They were here to look pretty, not to really guard much!
The emperor really didn’t expect something like this when his soldiers were busy fighting the wildlife.
And now Ramwill was breaking into his bedroom!