A knock on the door of his room.
Angus got off his bed and opened the door sluggishly. It was his mother. Her hand shot up to her nose immediately.
“Oh, Angus!” she said, her wrinkled but beautiful face creasing in disgust, “Do you never clean your room, eh? And you are smelling too. I can’t remember the last time you said of taking a bath!”
Angus grimaced and attempted to close the door.
“Wait,” his mother said, “I saw Uncle Bonzo coming. I think he’s bringing the goods. Deliver them to the shop.”
“I was up at the shop till midnight, mother!” Angus protested. He hated that shop. Sitting there and attending to customers sucked the life out of him.
A look of understanding settled on his mother’s face. She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I understand, Ang, but the shop is our only source of money.”
“Yes,” Angus said aloud. He pushed his mother aside and went out, avoiding further conversation with her. He was afraid she would start speaking about how great it would have been if his father was alive.
Uncle Bonzo was getting off his carriage when Angus reached the gate.
“New goods?” Angus asked Uncle Bonzo, who was almost completely bald.
Bonzo stretched his lips into a wide smile. He had a twinkle in his eyes.
“Something better.”
Angus raised a brow. Something worse than goods?
“And what would that be?”
“A job— at the Royal Land.”
Angus was so surprised, he couldn’t say anything. The Royal Land was the part of the capital city where all the royal people lived. It was the most developed part of the entire kingdom. Commoners were allowed entry into the Royal Land, but only after a strict inspection at the main gate. And owners of small and large businesses had to pay large taxes there.
“Really?”
“But first my sister’ permission,” Bonzo said. “Only then will I take you to the Royal Land.”
The moments that followed were strange ones for Angus. The ‘job’ that Bonzo had been speaking of actually was that of a guard. Apparently some official had asked Bonzo if he knew anyone who was strong and could work as a guard at the palace, and Bonzo had mentioned Angus right away.
Angus' mother let out a sob saying it was a risky job to be a guard, but since they needed the money— the salary was thrice the income from their shop— she told Angus to do as he pleased. The picture of Alheya flashed in his mind’s eye, and Angus declared he would take up the job. He would get many opportunities to speak to Alheya if he worked in the Royal Land.
Bonzo jovially slapped Angus on the back.
“Then tomorrow I take you to the Royal Land!”
***
Xuhn did not at all like the tense faces of the troll couple. Even Berdin looked confused at the behaviour of his parents, and stared at them nervously with his large innocent eyes.
“Please don’t hide anything from us,” Mortugal said to the couple.
Zergo nodded gravely.
“Well, for all we know, our king might stuff you and make you display pieces. Our king is a rude man and few love him. He took over the throne by killing his brother who was the rightful heir. Trolland is no peaceful place. There is widespread poverty, and many factions want to overthrow the king. I don’t even want to take you to him.”
Zergo said this in an undertone, afraid that he would be in trouble if anybody overheard him.
“But only your king might be able to help us pass through the purple screen, isn’t that the case?” Xuhn asked. His insides had turned cold hearing Zergo’s depressing words.
“Yes, my friend,” Zergo replied. “If there’s anyone who can help you, it’s the king. He knows secrets nobody else in Trolland knows. But he is very unlikely to help you. He is greedy.”
Corpsia glanced at Xuhn. It seemed like an idea was playing in her eyes.
“Greedy men aren’t that hard to sway, are they?”
Mortugal let out a sarcastic chuckle.
“Greedy men,” Mortugal said. Xuhn wondered if Mortugal was thinking that Corpsia was implying him. Xuhn decided to take Corpsia’s side.
“Yeah, we can make him some irresistible offer and then he would let us go, I am sure.”
Marida, Zergo’s wife, raised a confused brow.
“Irresistible offer like?”
Xuhn shrugged.
“If we tell him we can bring him a lot of gold, he might help us.”
Zergo scratched his chin.
“I won’t be too sure of that.”
“Just take us to him. We can think up something, I guess,” Xuhn said.
Zergo looked at them for a moment, lost in thought.
“So be it.”
***
Angus got up early the next morning. He had slept little at night due to the excitement. He would enjoy not attending the shop. He had gone to the shop yesterday evening, and put a big lock on the door.
After a hearty breakfast, Angus climbed atop his horse and set out for Uncle Bonzo’s place.
The morning felt so nice. A cool breeze blew and the sun was out. Troll myth said that the sun was created by a god who vomited it out. Angus wondered how much of that was true.
His eyes suddenly caught a movement behind a tree. Was there a small person behind the tree?
His mind must be playing tricks. It was probably just a squirrel. But then he saw—or thought he saw— another small person not far from the same tree. Curiosity got the better of Angus and he pulled the reins of his horse. He jumped down and approached the tree.
A movement on a branch.
Angus turned his head to see a small person, of a height barely the length of his finger. The small person seemed very frightened. He had a big ugly nose and was of light brown—not green—complexion. Such a strange creature, Angus thought. Was it a little spirit?
“Hey, you,” Angus said to the person. The person was clothed, and Angus guessed he was capable of speech. The person tried to hide behind some leaves.
“Look, I have seen you, all right?” Angus said. “What are you—?”
A sharp pain erupted in Angus’ leg. He looked down to see a small arrow sticking to it. There were five other small persons standing on the overground root of another tree. Some had little swords raised while others had arrows drawn. The arrows were released.
Angus tried to evade them, but they hit him nonetheless.
“Ouch!” he cried, tiny explosions of pain occurring all over his body.
These are spirits! Run! a voice yelled in the back of his head.
Angus ran to his horse and jumped on its back. He kicked his horse and rode away, his heart pounding. By the time he reached Bonzo’s house, Angus had managed to remove only some of the needle-like arrows. The arrowheads, despite being crudely fashioned from stone, were shaped such that they caused more damage upon withdrawing than on first entering flesh. He limped to the doorstep, his trousers quite bloody.
“Uncle Bonzo!” he called. The door opened after sometime and Bonzo appeared.
“Why are you sitting on the steps— Oh my! What happened to you?”
“I was attacked,” Angus replied miserably. He would have gladly thought the little people were concoctions of his imagination—if not for the arrows sticking to his body.
“Attacked? Are those little arrows?”
“Help me remove them,” Angus said.
It was a painful process. But Bonzo’s wife also came, and the couple took out the arrows and applied medication to Angus’ wounds. He explained them his misadventure. Despite the evidence of the arrows, they refused to believe that Angus had been attacked by spirits. Finally, Angus decided that putting the matter to rest was best, before his uncle and aunt decided he had lost his head.
“You sure, they weren’t children?” Bonzo asked for the twentieth time.
“You know what, Uncle,” Angus said with much frustration, “they might have been children afte
rall. Now tell me, are you going to take me to the Royal Land?”
“I wonder if they will like a wounded guard,” Bonzo said.
“I’ll act like nothing’s happened to me,” Angus said. He stood up and made a couple of jumps to show he was okay, although his legs had never felt worse. He waved his arms in combat fashion to further make his point to Bonzo, who looked little convinced.
“Fine.”
It took a few hours to reach Royal Land. While Angus had seen the place before from the outside, he had never been allowed to enter it. Angus’ felt jubilant when the guards at the gate permitted them to enter, and for once he put aside his pains and thought of seeing Alheya every day.
Angus and Bonzo then went to the house of the royal official who had first contacted Bonzo. He was a plump troll, and his chamber looked quite lavish. He asked Angus and Bonzo to sit, and then himself leaned back in his throne-like chair.
“You a strong man?” the royal official asked Angus.
“I can beat down anybody,” Angus said. And he totally meant it. He had never been defeated in combat.
“Look at him,” Bonzo said gesturing at Angus’ muscular frame, “he’s got arms like pillars. You can’t get better than him.”
The official looked at his eyes with a stare that seemed to pierce into Angus’ soul. Angus stared back with respectful determination. And then the official’s eyes went to his arm.
A frown.
“What’s that?” the official said, a fat finger pointed at Angus’ forearm. There was a blot of blood.
“A little cut,” Angus said with a small smile, “it’s nothing.”
“So, will you take him?” Uncle Bonzo said quickly, changing the topic.
Distracted, the official nodded.
“He looks like a strong man. Come, young man, let me show you what you have to guard. There’s already another guard, but two’s better than one, right?”
The official led them out of his house and to the Royal Palace that was situated not far. Angus’ could only marvel at the exquisite decorations of the palace. He would love to live in such a place.
The official led them through several corridors and finally to a big guarded door which he opened after winking at the burly guards. The door opened to a staircase that led downwards. At the bottom of the staircase there was another sealed door, in front of which a guard stood carrying a thick sword.
First Angus wondered why the guard was so curvy. Then he realised the guard was a female troll. She wore leather pants and boots, while a thick belt hug her waist. On the upper side she wore a sleeveless shirt and a fitted jerkin. Her arms were muscular, yet they somehow managed to look feminine.
“A lady!” Bonzo exclaimed, voicing Angus’ surprise.
The lady guard pointed her thick sword at Uncle Bonzo, flexing her muscles.
“Ladies can fight, sir.”
“They sure do, Olwyne,” the official said with a smile.
“Bonzo and Angus, meet Olwyne, the best woman fighter in the kingdom.”
Olwyne sheathed her sword, and made a graceful bow.
“Er, hi,” Angus said awkwardly.
“Olwyne,” the official said, and he patted Angus, “this thick guy, Angus, will be your companion guard from tomorrow onwards.”
“Really?” Olwyne said, just the slightest hint of displease in her voice.
The official nodded. He turned at Angus.
“And Angus, Olwyne might be a lady but she can handle ten males easily. Consider it a privilege to work beside her.”
Angus looked at the sealed door.
“What’s behind the door?” Angus asked, curiously.
Olwyne drew her lips into a smile.
“I have been guarding whatever lies behind it for quite some time, my dear Angus, but nobody’s ever told me what I am guarding, except—”
“That it is something of great importance and you must consider it an honour for having given the chance to guard it,” the official finished.
***
Ritika watched from the top of the half-destroyed watchtower as the insurgent troops took over the city of Morhung under the leadership of Xuhn. Two of the watchtower guards lay feet away from her in pools of blood. Ritika smiled, for she no longer craved the crimson liquid.
She had achieved her wish.
Ritika had achieved absolute control over her thirst for blood. All thanks to Xuhn. Just being near him had done that.
Xuhn’s voice had changed a bit, and perhaps for that reason he talked little with Ritika. But knowing the fact that he had forgiven her made her the happiest person. Xuhn had refused to tell her what had happened to Mortugal, or how his eyes had changed. All he said was that whatever happened had given him a lot of magical powers, and it was how Xuhn had been able to fulfil Ritika’s old wish.
Ritika had made the correct decision in walking away that night not long ago. But she now wished to find Ruponi and Breda again. However when she had returned to the spot, she found that they were gone. Xuhn had promised that he would help Ritika find them— but only after he conquered Morhung, the capital city of Northang.
Presently the young man himself walked up the steep steps of the watchtower. He wore a black cloak, a distant smile playing on his lips. Their eyes met. Those dragon eyes…
“The king has been surrounded. My troops will kill him in no time,” he said victoriously.
“How did your eyes become such?” Ritika asked, unable to control herself. She had been yearning to know that for long.
Xuhn looked away.
“I- I am sorry,” Ritika said, when Xuhn didn’t answer. Had she hurt his sentiments?
“It’s okay,” Xuhn said with a nod, gazing at some soldiers in the distance, who were setting a house ablaze. “But I don’t want to talk about it now. It pains me.”
A moment of uneasy silence hung.
Ritika hated such moments. They made her feel like Xuhn hadn’t forgiven her for her crime. Why did he act so distant sometimes?
A cry tore the air. Ritika’s eyes flew towards the source of the cry.
The house being set ablaze.
Apparently it still had occupants. A woman and two children— a boy and a girl—had broken a window and come out through it.
It was the boy who had cried. A soldier had stabbed his mother.
Ritika’s gasped. How could the soldiers be so cruel?
“Why did they stab her?” Ritika asked Xuhn. Till now she had thought that the soldiers were only killing the enemy soldiers of the king. Only now it dawned upon her that innocent civilians might be inside the many houses that had been set on fire.
Presently, the boy flung himself at the soldier. The soldier hit the boy’s head with a sword hilt, and threw him away. The boy moved no more.
“It’s necessary, my dear,” Xuhn said, without the smallest trace of sadness in his voice.
Ritika’s insides turned cold. Was this truly Xuhn?
***
Chapter 31
Xuhn was astonished as Mortugal accepted the giant bread crumb offered by Berdin.
“What?” Mortugal asked, when he noticed Xuhn gaping at him.
“I thought you were carnivorous,” Xuhn said. He recalled the ghastly sight of Mortugal gulping down Bnomes.
“Food is food, boy,” Mortugal replied, munching the bread crumb and nodding approval at the taste, “mmm, it’s not bad, you know.”
Meanwhile, Berdin offered Xuhn a crumb of bread too. He accepted it, still wondering how Mortugal could appreciate such food. Xuhn put the bread crumb in his mouth.
Not a moment later he spit it out. His new mouth, filled with dagger like teeth, just refused the bread.
“What happened?” Vivek asked, raising a brow. Mortugal let out a laugh.
“You see now?”
“You don’t like it?” Berdin said, his large eyes filled with disappointment.
“No, I, er,” Xuhn tried to explain.
“It’s just the way the beast eats, b
oy,” Mortugal explained in a mocking voice.
Berdin looked at them for a moment. Xuhn felt like Berdin was trying to dissect them with his eyes.
“Would you like to come with me?” Bonzo asked.
“Where?” Mortugal asked, the previous humour fading from his tone.
“My friends said they would like to meet you all,” Berdin said.
“You told your friends about us?” said Corpsia, who was sitting as far from the human Mortugal as she could— and it didn’t seem like it was because she hated him. It was shyness.
Bonzo nodded.
“Sorry, Berdin, we can’t,” Mortugal said. Obviously it wouldn’t be a great idea to meet Berdin’s friends. Berdin was a kind troll boy, but that couldn’t be said about his friends. Plus, Zergo and his wife had had lunch sometime ago and were napping. Their snores could be heard like the rumbling of a distant storm.
Berdin’s large eyes swelled with tears at the refusal.
“Please?” Berdin said. Xuhn gulped. He didn’t like where this was going.
“We’ll go, but with your father,” Xuhn said in an attempt to control the situation before it went out of hand.
“He doesn’t like to be disturbed when taking a nap,” Bonzo said darkly, “he loses his head.”
“Let’s go then,” Vivek said, who was sitting quite relaxed. “Come on, his friends won’t eat us, will they?” Mortugal shot Vivek a glare. But the milk was already spilled. Berdin clapped his massive hands with much enthusiasm, as Vivek sat up a bit straighter at the former dragon’s glare.
“What?” Vivek whispered uncomfortably.
Berdin placed the gigantic cage in front of them.
“Get in,” Berdin said. “I’ll put a cloth over the cage so no one sees you along the way.”
Very reluctantly Xuhn and the other three moved into the cage.
“I don’t think this is going to end well,” Corpsia said, her face contorted in worry.
“You,” Mortugal pointed a stern finger at Vivek. “That wasn’t wise.”
“But-but,” Vivek stammered, although it was clear from his face that he understood the danger he had put them in.
“Let it go, Mortugal,” Xuhn said. “Hope for the best. Berdin’s friends might be good, after all.”
The Banishment of the King Page 21