The Banishment of the King

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The Banishment of the King Page 11

by A. J. Chaudhury


  “Look,” Mortugal told the werewolves, “I never wanted to injure you, but you were attacking me. Now fix those wimps!” And he flapped his wings harder and shot to the skies.

  “So, where are we headed?” Xuhn asked once they were high up amongst the clouds. Mortugal was flying rather fast despite the weight of the four passengers on his back, and he seemed pretty sure of where he wanted to go.

  “To Dragonland,” Mortugal said.

  “We’ll get there right?” Xuhn said. Ever since he had decided to help the vampires, Dragonland seemed where they were always headed.

  “We will,” said Mortugal, “let’s hope.”

  ***

  Chapter 16

  “Why didn’t you go to the lake?” Xuhn asked the dragon Mortugal as they flew in the sky, their destination the land of dragons.

  It was getting colder by the moment, and Xuhn repented leaving his shawl back at the cave where Norhul was imprisoned. Even Breda had changed to her wolf form, though Xuhn could see well that she was having difficulty sitting like that on Mortugal’s back.

  He could only hope the she-werewolf wouldn’t fall off. Plus, it was getting dark and they were still flying over the vast Werewolf country, yet to reach even Northang—the human kingdom that came before Dragonland.

  “All the time I was sleeping in the lake,” said Mortugal, “I was sad. And most of the sorrow didn’t come from what had happened to me during my old life. It came from the lake itself; I don’t know how to explain. So, even in my dazed state, I decided to go and sleep in my birthplace, as it was a more cheerful place. But what puzzles me is how you people managed to cure my brains after I crashed.”

  Nobody had told Mortugal about Corpsia’s kiss. It was best not to hurt the dragon’s sentiments.

  “We didn’t cure you,” Xuhn said, “I reckon you hit your head on some tree, and that fixed your brains.”

  “That’s curious,” the dragon said, “I was very tired just before I crashed. I couldn’t keep flapping my wings or manoeuvring myself and that’s why I crashed in the first place. I have been flying for hours now and am tired, but it’s nothing of the sort I experienced before crashing. For all I know the crash seems to have energised me.”

  “Don’t think too much,” Xuhn said, “You are back in form and that’s what you want.”

  “I guess so,” said Mortugal, not sounding very convinced. “You said Malthur doesn’t want me dead. Do you think he might have something to do with this?”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” said Xuhn.

  “Did you see Corpsia in Malthur’s tent?”

  “Yes,” Xuhn said, not sure where the conversation was going.

  “You asked her why she did all the letter business with you?’

  “Didn’t have time,” Xuhn lied, “and I don’t think I want to revenge on her anymore. She isn’t worth revenging upon. She is beautiful, but has the heart of a serpent.”

  Mortugal kept quiet. Apparently he wasn’t very pleased with Xuhn saying so about Corpsia. At least that should put a stop to his questions, Xuhn thought.

  Xuhn shivered with the cold and he sought for something to distract him. His sinuses had frozen, and he was inhaling and exhaling with much effort.

  “Hey Breda,” he said to the she-wolf sitting behind.

  “Hmmm?”

  “You aren’t feeling cold?”

  “A little. It’s good to have my fur on.”

  “What about you guys?” Xuhn asked Ritika and Ruponi sitting in front of him.

  “We got hot blood,” Ritika replied, her lips curling into a shy smile.

  Xuhn placed a hand on her shoulder. Her body was actually quite warm.

  “I wish to be a vampire now!” Xuhn said. He had an urge to hold her in her arms, but he drew back his hands.

  Xuhn turned to Breda.

  “Well, I wanted to ask you about the Mother’s spirit you were talking about earlier.”

  “It happened some days back,” Breda replied, “we were hunting not far from the stream where I first met you. Suddenly smoke appeared before us. It took the shape of a she-wolf, and that she-wolf told us in the ancient werewolf tongue that we needed to kill the furry dragon if we wanted to become more powerful than the vampires. I mean at least that’s what we thought she meant, as none of us knew the ancient tongue. She was using archaic words we didn’t understand.”

  “You say you saw the spirit not far from the stream?” Mortugal asked.

  “Yes,” said Breda.

  “Near a big tree right?”

  “Yes, it was the biggest tree in the area,” Breda said in surprise, “how do you know?”

  “That spirit just might be the she-werewolf who raised me.”

  Everybody gasped.

  “But if she raised you,” said Xuhn, “why would she tell the werewolves that your death would make them more powerful?”

  “Like Breda said, they didn’t understand the words of the spirit well. Maybe the spirit meant something else.”

  “I don’t get why a werewolf should raise you,” said Breda, confused.

  “Many werewolves together raised me actually,” said Mortugal, “but I was closest to a certain she-werewolf. My life is full of mysteries, folks, that even I can’t explain.”

  After sometime Mortugal said he was exhausted and couldn’t fly anymore. The vegetation below had gotten sparser and now it was mostly rocky terrain. But there was what looked like a town ahead, casting a glow into the sky, and a river flowing through it. Since the werewolves were more or less an uncivilised race, the presence of the town suggested that they had arrived in Northang.

  Mortugal swooped down and landed in the only thicket of tress present in the region. Breda leapt down, then Xuhn. But just as Ritika was climbing down, she slipped and almost fell face first on the ground. Luckily Xuhn caught her just in time.

  “You okay?” he asked her. She had given him quite a fright. She would have sustained a good head injury if she had struck the ground.

  “Yeah,” Ritika said, touching her forehead. She was rather unsteady on her feet and Xuhn helped her to squat down.

  The case was same with Ruponi. She somehow climbed down from Mortugal’s back. But once on the ground, she unsteadily staggered up to Ritika and knelt down.

  “What’s up with you two?” Mortugal asked.

  “Bit weak,” said Ritika.

  “Take some rest, you’ll get well,” said Mortugal, sounding devoid of energy himself.

  “Are you hungry?” Xuhn asked Ritika. Earlier, in the day, Mortugal had descended down once and all of them--excluding the dragon-- had eaten wild fruits and berries. But those fruits and berries had been a long time ago.

  “No,” Ritika said. “I am not hungry. I guess I just need some rest… Are you hungry, mother?” she asked Ruponi who shook her head. Ruponi dragged herself to a tree and leaned against it for rest.

  “Take some rest,” Xuhn told Ritika, and she went to her mother.

  Xuhn swallowed saliva. He was feeling thirsty.

  “Hey Mortugal,” he said to the dragon, “care to go to the river we saw from above?”

  Mortugal didn’t reply.

  “He’s fallen asleep,” Breda said. And soon the dragon’s snores filled the night air.

  Breda too curled up on the ground.

  “I guess, I should sleep too,” she said. “Aren’t you sleepy, Xuhn?”

  Xuhn went and sat down beside Mortugal, leaning against his warm fur.

  “Well, here’s my cosy spot,” he said.

  He closed his eyes and gulped down more saliva to quench his thirst. His body ached all over, his back in particular where the Bnome had buried a dagger earlier. But Mortugal’s warmth provided some relief and soon he dozed off.

  It was dark when he awoke with an intense urge to pee. Most of the lights in the town were out.

  Xuhn went some distance from his companions and relieved himself. He rubbed his arms as his teeth chattered, and he looked through the trees a
t the outlines of the houses in the distance. He was sure many people there had woollen clothes. He needed some for sure.

  And for that he needed to go to the town.

  “I am thirsty,” Ruponi said suddenly. She sounded very weak.

  “I’ll get some water then,” said Xuhn.

  “It’s not water that she wants,” said Ritika, apparently awake.

  Xuhn turned sharply at the silhouettes of the duo.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What you think I mean,” said Ritika. She hesitated, then continued, “We- we’ve been without blood for way too long.”

  Xuhn thought about it for a moment. It was only natural that Ritika and her mother should feel weak because of not drinking blood. It was not their fault at all.

  “I am not sure if I can hunt in the dark,” said Xuhn. Then he thought about Breda. “Maybe Breda…” He didn’t want to wake up the she-wolf since she was fast asleep. She had exerted herself enough during the day fighting her fellow werewolves.

  Then an idea came to his mind. Besides woollens, the people in the town were likely to have cattle too, right?

  “Wait,” he told Ritika, “I’ll go to the town and bring you… blood.”

  “I’ll come too,” Ritika said, rising slowly.

  “No you stay here,” he told her, “you are too weak. I’ll go alone.”

  “Be careful,” Ritika said, her voice dipped in fear.

  “I will,” Xuhn said. He let out a laugh just to lighten the atmosphere, “Don’t worry, I won’t bring you human blood.”

  Xuhn stumbled on roots and stones several times as he made his way out of the thicket and towards the sleeping town. Thankfully the outlines of the houses ahead guided him and he didn’t lose his way.

  The closer he got to the town the more nervous he became and his hair stood on end not just due to the cold. He put a hand over his chest, telling himself there was nothing to worry about. He had never stolen in his life— Xuhn was sure nobody was going to give him woollens and cattle in exchange of nothing— but for Ritika he was ready to do anything. It would be excellent if he succeeded in his quest. If he failed, at least he would have tried.

  Soon he reached the first houses in the town, which led him to a street. The street took him right and left, and he hoped he would come across some ranch. The town had an equal number of one and two storey houses, and occasionally there was the three storey house too. Most were made of brick and stone, though those belonging to poorer folk were made of mud. Sometimes there would be a dim street torch ahead, nearby which a guard or two stood, and Xuhn would immediately change his direction.

  More than once Xuhn stumbled on some poor homeless fellow sleeping on the side of the street and received rough, but weak, words. Xuhn pitied such people, but there was little he could do for them.

  And then, his exploration of the town finally led him to a small ranch, with goat huddled in a corner. Taking a wary glance around himself, Xuhn picked up the biggest stone he could find and climbed over the fence. He approached the goats. The owner’s house was just nearby, and the tiniest sound reaching his ears made his heart jump. Never in life had he been so aware of every single footstep he took. When he reached the goats, the animals realised he was a stranger and began to scatter. He caught a medium sized goat by its horns and hit one swift blow on the goat’s head.

  The sound of the skull shattering was deafening to Xuhn. But the goat died right away. Not caring if the occupants of the house would wake up, Xuhn lifted the dead goat and sprang to the edge of the ranch. He jumped over the fence and ran back the street he had come until he arrived at the very edge of the town. The thicket in which his friends were was now visible to him.

  But the cold…

  He had no idea how to break into somebody’s house and steal their woollens. He would be stoned to death if found. Plus he wondered if the owner of the goat would realise that one goat was missing and maybe get a search party. Xuhn would be in real trouble then. It was best to ask for woollen clothes, rather than stealing them. Maybe someone would be generous enough.

  Xuhn placed the goat at the base of a tree. Its head was bleeding profusely, and he hoped there would be enough blood remaining in the goat to quench Ritika and her mother’s thirst. Then he went to the most wealthy-looking home he could find nearby and knocked at the door.

  “Who is idiotic enough to come so late at night?” a muffled female voice yelled from inside. Immediately, the voice made Xuhn’s insides turn cold for reasons he didn’t know. The voice sounded familiar, just whom it belonged to he couldn’t remember.

  “Er, can I talk to you for just a moment?” Xuhn said.

  “Benzel, check who’s at the door!” the female voice ordered.

  Benzel? Had Xuhn heard the name right? Could it be…?

  His heartbeat galloped as he heard sounds on the other side of the door. He prepared himself for anything and everything.

  The door opened. A torch was perched on a wall inside, and its glow fell on the bald man’s face.

  “Benzel!” Xuhn gasped. Benzel was one of the senior slaves he had been with when he was a child. One of the good slaves who had helped Xuhn escape.

  “Is it really you?” Benzel said, a hint of recognition in his husky voice. Xuhn could barely believe his eyes even as he scanned the man’s face. The hooked nose, the deep sunken eyes, the broad lips. It was the same good Benzel.

  So that rude voice had been of his mistress!

  “You are still serving her?” Xuhn said.

  “Why have you come here?” Benzel asked instead. Footsteps in an unseen room inside told Xuhn he just might see his old mistress again.

  “I need clothes, Benzel,” Xuhn said. “I need woollens.”

  Benzel immediately removed the coat he had been wearing and handed it to Xuhn. It had tears at several places, but looked warm.

  “Will that do?”

  Xuhn could only nod his thankfulness.

  “Now go before she comes,” Benzel whispered as the sound of the footsteps got louder.

  “But I can’t leave you here!” Xuhn protested.

  “Please go,” Benzel said and gave Xuhn a light push on the chest. Benzel then hurriedly closed the door.

  “I’ll be back, Benzel,” Xuhn promised.

  He made his way back to the tree where he had left the goat, only to find the silhouette of a person— probably a beggar—near it.

  “Hey, move away,” Xuhn said sternly. He bent and picked up his goat before the beggar could say anything.

  As Xuhn made his way towards the last houses of the town, the beggar’s voice followed him,

  “Interestin’,” the beggar said in a Northangi accent, “a thief givin’ orders to a beggar!”

  Xuhn ignored it and rushed towards the thicket.

  His mind was clouded with thoughts about Benzel as he handed the dead goat to Ritika. She and her mother took it from him without a word of thanks, so intense was their thirst for blood. Thankfully they went some distance away from him to drink.

  They returned after sometime.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Ritika told him.

  “Me too,” said Ruponi, and their energised voices made Xuhn cheerful.

  “I have never felt sober in a long while,” said Ritika. “So you found a coat too?” Apparently she had only now noticed Xuhn wearing the coat.

  “Yes,” said Xuhn, “an old friend gave it to me.”

  “An old friend?” Ritika asked with some surprise. “You have friends in Northang?”

  “Apparently. Surans who moved to this kingdom. Let’s put away the talk for now, I feel sleepy.”

  They kept the dead goat nearby. Xuhn was sure Mortugal would love it, even though most of its blood was gone. Then Xuhn slumped against the dragon and closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep.

  No sleep came however, even as the soft snores of Ritika and Ruponi reached his ears. All that came were thoughts of Benzel and that vile woman who had once be
en Xuhn’s mistress.

  Chapter 17

  Vivek had searched for Xuhn everywhere. In the woods, in the hills, in the nearby village. But the woodcutter was nowhere to be found. The werewolves too had rejected capturing him.

  The other villagers had already given up their search for Xuhn. Maybe they were sensible. Maybe they weren’t determined enough or just didn’t care if Xuhn was alive or dead. It hadn’t been the first sudden disappearance from their village, and Vivek doubted it would be the last. But Vivek wasn’t prepared to give up and his mother supported him. Every time they looked towards Xuhn’s house, the woodcutter would flash in their mind’s eyes and they missed his presence.

  So today morning when it dawned upon Vivek there was still a place he hadn’t such for his friend, he readily raced to the spot with his newly mended legs.

  There was nobody at the Frozen Lake— which had ceased to be frozen any longer. Not that the lake had been very popular earlier either. But the villagers had taken the disappearance of the ice as an indication of something ominous occurring soon.

  Vivek took off all his clothes and plunged into the icy water, so intense was his fear of finding Xuhn at the bottom of the lake. The moment he was inside the water, he wanted to come out. The ice might have melted, but with the approaching winter the water was so cold that Vivek felt like millions of tiny needles were pricking every square inch of his body. But he gritted his teeth and dived deeper into the lake.

  His eyes pained and he could see only a few metres in front of him. But he was acutely aware of one thing— that he was probably the first person to dive into the lake and explore it. It thrilled him somehow and encouraged him to throw away his fears.

  But after sometime, Vivek’s lungs screamed for air such that he had to return to the surface without exploring the lake floor. The moment he surfaced, he gulped in air like it was some delicious food. A rocking shiver caught hold of him, and he had to swim to the edge of the water and return to land.

  The cold was overwhelming, but the sense of defeat was greater. Couldn’t Vivek even swim to the bottom of the lake for Xuhn? The rays of the morning sun fell on his skin, providing some relief from the cold. Vivek tried to calm his shuddering body by taking in deep breaths. When he had controlled himself to a certain extent, he leapt into the water again.

 

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