The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  The boy was speaking adamantly to the man next to him, as Aroron moved towards them. He couldn’t make out the words they were saying, until he was almost upon them.

  "Munay killed King Ozony in cold blood," the man growled, and Aroron could see the anger in his eyes as he looked at the boy who stood in front of him. "There's nothing more horrid than that, you imp."

  "King Ozony was a coward and he died as a coward," the boy said, crossing his arms as he glared back at the man. “Everyone in Shenock, or heck, the whole realm, knows that. Everyone, but you.” As he spoke, a smirk spread across the boy's face.

  He thinks he's so smart. Aroron had a hard time not wanting to slap that smile off his face! It was on the edge of being really irritating. The boy was younger than Aroron, and Aroron didn’t remember what really happened, and he was a Karlien.

  This boy was just a Shenockien, he knew nothing of Karlay.

  "King Ozony killed himself, because he thought the castle was under attack," the boy continued. "An attack King Munay stopped and if Ozony hadn't been a coward and killed himself, he'd still be king today."

  The man glared at the boy. "You have no idea what really happened, you stupid boy!" he hissed. "I was there, inside the Castle when Munay's coup took place. I was there through those horrors."

  “If that’s true, how’d you get out alive?” the boy asked. “Ozony was a foolish Draven and that was all he ever was.”

  "I should beat you for saying such things about King Ozony!" he yelled, jumping to his feet and towards the boy.

  Fear instantly covered the boy's face, as he ducked behind the nearest person. Who turned out to be Aroron. Of all people! He thought to himself. Oh, well. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.

  “Move!” the man growled at Aroron. “Or I’ll make you.”

  "He's just a boy, and you will not touch him!" Aroron growled, holding his hand out towards the man. "Not because of something that happened ten years ago, not because of something that happened today. He's just a boy and you are a grown man! You don’t treat children like that."

  “Really?” The man reached up his hand to slap Aroron, but mid movement, he stopped himself and for a second, he stood there, frozen. His hand started to tremble and he took a step back, his hand dropping back to his side.

  "Only a coward would even think of threatening a child," Aroron said, stepping closer to the man. "If that is who you are, you're no better than King Munay. So how can you judge him?" The man lunged at Aroron, but was too drunk to move quickly and he easily side stepped him. “Resorting to violence? Another thing you share with Munay.”

  “How dare you!” the man yelled, reaching for a knife in his belt.

  Aroron grabbed the man by the back of the neck and shoved him face down against the counter. “Knock it off, before you hurt someone!” he hissed in the man’s ear. “There are Loyal Warriors listening.” At this, the man’s body tensed, but he didn’t say a word. “That’s better.” Still pinning him against the counter, Aroron reached into the man’s pocket and pulled out his money pouch. “How much for a loaf of bread?” He asked the tavern keeper.

  The man looked at Aroron, then down at the man and back again. “Um… three coppers.”

  He tossed the coins onto the counter and picked a loaf of bread up. “Thanks!” he yelled over his shoulder, as he headed out of the tavern and back towards the inn. Leaving the man rubbing his sore chest.

  Aroron felt a little guilty, as he stepped back out onto the street, clutching the loaf of bread in his hand. He hadn’t really stolen anything. The man had owed him three coppers after he’d attacked him.

  At least, that’s what he told himself.

  He didn’t know why, but the man reminded him of someone he’d known when he was younger. But he couldn’t place him. Shaking away these thoughts, he turned and headed back to the inn. He was sure Lilay and Slanslot were probably hungry by now.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  Not Quite Right

  Fray had been right.

  After riding all day, they’d barely made it to the edge of Hatter by night fall. So, now all they could do was wait and hope his plan had worked. If it hadn’t… well, he couldn’t let himself think that way.

  After they’d set up camp, and everyone had gone to their own tents, try as he might, Enrick couldn’t sleep. Even after hardly sleeping the last few nights. He felt like he was edging towards exhaustion, yet sleep wouldn’t come.

  Rubbing his eyes, he shoved himself out of his bed and onto his feet. If he couldn’t sleep, he wasn’t going to waste time trying to. He snatched up his cloak and moved out of his tent.

  As quietly as he could, he made his way out of the camp and towards the woods that surrounded them. The camp fell away and he was soon submerged in trees and rocky cliffs. These were the last trees you would find after entering Shenock.

  Once you headed towards Shey, the trees would be gone and replaced with sand and more sand for miles, upon miles. How the Shenockiens could survive such dry land, Enrick didn’t know.

  He tightened the cloak around his shoulder, as he continued his walk. A cold wind biting at him, as he edged his way around another tree and into a clearing. He knew Fray would be furious with him for not telling anyone where he was going, but at that moment, he didn’t care. He needed to be alone, if only for a moment.

  Enrick couldn’t have told anyone where he was going, even if he’d wanted to. He had no idea. He was just getting away from everything and everyone back at the camp. Prince Enrick stopped in the clearing and sighed, looking up towards the sky.

  He was still looking up towards the sky, when he heard a rustling sound, followed by a ‘snap’. Someone was behind him! The sound registered a second before he was hit in the back, and he went flying to the ground.

  He rolled over and was back on his feet again.

  Enrick quickly looked around him and spotted his attacker, a woman, standing beside him. “Well, hello there.” The woman purred, circling Enrick. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Who are you?” Enrick asked, reaching towards his sword. He doubted a meeting like this at night would end well.

  “Oh? You don’t know who I am, Prince Enrick?” she asked. “Odd. I was sure you knew who I was.”

  He looked her over and sneered. He might not know who she was, but he did know what she was. “I don’t like fighting women, but then again, you’re a bandit, not a woman.” Enrick hissed, lunging towards her as he quickly drew his sword.

  But the bandit was too fast for that.

  She jumped to the side and drew her own sword, which she quickly used to block Enrick’s attack. He parried and jumped back, as she brought her sword swinging towards his head.

  She missed him only by an inch.

  “What do you want from me?!” Enrick spat, lowering his sword. “I know you’re not here for a night time duel.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” she said, lowering her own sword. “I heard you were looking for me. So, here I am.”

  For a long second, Enrick just stared at her. “You’re Dregana?”

  “Not what you were expecting?” she asked, tilting her head as she pulled her hood and mask off. Revealing long silver hair.

  “Well… no. When Dasety said you were a girl who ran away from Shenock because you were an Oddity, well, this wasn’t what I was expecting.” Enrick said, looking her over. “He told me your story.”

  “Oh, I see. So, you were expecting, what? A blond?” she asked, as she spoke, her silver hair shimmered and turned blond. “Was that more of what you were expecting?” Almost instantly, it turned back to silver and she returned her hood.

  “Wait! Did you say Dasety?” She asked. Enrick nodded, still gripping his sword tightly, she might be acting normal right then, but with Odditys, you never knew. “Is he here with you?” She asked, glancing around as if she expected him to appear.

  Enrick hesitated, then said, “He’s back at the campsite.” He nodded back in th
e direction he’d come.

  Dregana looked around her and nodded. “Alright, you’d better take us to see him.”

  Prince Enrick eyed her. “Us?” he asked.

  “Us.” She said, grinning as three other bandits stepped out into the clearing behind her. “Meet Jaco, Glade and Kinlen.” The three of them mockingly bowed towards Enrick.

  “Your majesty.” One said, standing back up.

  Enrick just nodded at the three of them, then turned back towards Dregana. “Well, we’d better take you back to camp. I’m sure Dasety wishes to see you. Come, this way.” He said, spinning around, heading back the way he’d come just a few minutes before.

  The warriors were beginning to awake, when Enrick and his new ‘friends’ returned to the campsite. The sun wasn’t quite up, but it was already growing light. Another night has passed by. At least this time, Enrick had the Feeler in his grasp.

  When they stepped into camp, Fray was the first person who came up to them. He bowed towards Enrick, then he saw the bandits following close behind him.

  “Who are they?” Fray asked, drawing his sword.

  “Them?” Enrick asked, turning around and motioning towards the bandits. “They’re our guests, and you will treat them as such. Take care of them, while I take our Feeler to see Dasety.”

  “Feeler, sir?”

  Enrick smiled. “Yes. Come, Dregana. Dasety’s tent is this way.” He said, motioning the young woman to follow him.

  When he reached Dasety’s tent he hesitated outside. His hand raised towards the flaps. Enrick took in a deep breath. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. The moment he would show Dasety and his father what he was truly made of, and what he could do when he set his mind to something.

  “Wait out here.” He whispered to Dregana, before turning back towards the tent. He grabbed the edge of the tent’s door and stepped inside.

  “Enrick? What brings you here so early?” Dasety asked, looking up from his breakfast of dry bread and ale. He sipped on his drink, while he waited for Enrick to respond.

  He looked at Dasety. “My plan worked, just like I said it would.”

  The cup slipped from his hands, as he jumped to his feet. “You found her?” Dasety said, his voice just above a whisper.

  Enrick nodded, stepping to the side. “You can enter now!” he called to the bandit.

  The tent flaps were pulled back again and Dregana entered. She glanced around, and shrugged. “Not bad.” She said, running her hand across the table. Finally, her gaze fell on King Munay’s adviser. “Hello, Dasety.”

  “Dregana?” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes.” She said, smiling at him.

  “You look so different!” Dasety said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re so grown up, and a woman now.”

  “Yes.” Dregana said, clearing her throat. “Well, I was just a child the last time we saw each other. Growing up was bound to happen, whether I liked it or not.”

  “I know, I remember how young you were.” Dasety said, sighing. “I remember that day clearly.”

  “Not as clear as I.” Dregana whispered. “Now, why am I here? I doubt you’ve been searching for me, just for a little chat.”

  “No, of course not!” Dasety said, laughing. “Come sit, and I’ll explain.” He said, pulling another seat next to the table.

  “I don’t need to sit!” She hissed, clinching her fists. “You can explain now, or I will leave. I’m not one to play games, and I’m no longer the child you helped leave the palace. I will not be toyed with.”

  “Alright.” Dasety said, nodding. “Enrick, leave us.”

  “What?!” Enrick asked, quickly turning towards him.

  “I said, leave us!” Dasety snapped. “Now, that’s an order!”

  “An order?!” Enrick snapped back. “You’re giving me an order now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m the one who found her!” He hissed. Who did he think he was? Giving Enrick orders.

  “Enrick Delroy Moone! Leave this moment!” Dasety yelled, his eyes flashing with anger.

  His face burning red and his eyes ablaze, Enrick saluted Dasety, spun around and stormed out of the tent and the campsite.

  Enrick made his way to the nearest clearing and drew his sword. Then with a scream, he slammed his sword into the tree, over and over again, until pieces of the bark broke free and all that was left was the bare insides of the tree.

  Prince Enrick screamed again and plunged his sword into the ground in front of him. His hands were shaking as he let go of the sword and clasped them over his face. How could Dasety treat him like this?! He saw a figure move towards him, but he didn’t care. He recognized the person.

  “My lord?” Fray said, edging towards Enrick. “Are you alright?”

  “Am I alright? Am I alright?” Enrick hissed, yanking his sword back out of the ground. “No, I’m not alright! Dasety is treating me like his own personal slave, and I hate it!”

  “May I ask what happened, sir?” he asked, frowning.

  “No one here seems to remember that I’m a prince, and not one of you!” Enrick hissed. “Dasety ordered me out of his tent.”

  “I would never do that to you, my lord,” Fray said, dropping to his knees. “I swear my allegiance to you, and you above all others. Even above your father.”

  Enrick sheathed his sword, turned back towards Fray and smiled. “I may yet hold you to that.”

  * * *

  As luck would have it, across the forest and inside Hatter, just like Enrick, Aroron found sleep impossible to find. He tossed and turned most of the night, until finally, he saw the sun peek over the horizon.

  When it finally did, he got up, silently left the inn, and went outside. Where, hopefully, he’d have a chance to think. He left the inn and stepped out onto the raised sidewalk. He moved over to the railing and leaned against it, looking up towards the sky.

  Aroron didn’t know why, but as he looked up at the still starlit sky, a loneliness swept over him.

  What was he doing there?! What did he hope to do? He couldn’t stop King Munay on his own.

  But on the other hand, was there more he could be doing? There was so much pain and loss out in the world, what could he do? He was only one person, not a very important one at that.

  If he was honest, he was barely keeping himself together.

  Aroron bent forwards and buried his face in his hands. Why did he feel like he was missing something?! He moaned and rubbed his head.

  “It’s so quiet out here.” Slanslot whispered, standing beside Aroron.

  Aroron jumped. “What are you doing out here?” He asked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He was so deep in his own thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed the Eloun was there, until he was standing right next to him.

  “I came to check on you.” Slanslot said, leaning against the railing. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m fine.” Aroron said, turning back towards the sky. “You don’t have to check on me, I’m not a child.”

  “Please!” Slanslot scoffed. “You are a child in my eyes.”

  That was the last straw! Aroron wasn’t going to take it any longer. “Why do you have such a problem with me?!” He snapped, spinning around to face the Eloun.

  “I don’t have a problem with you, I have a problem with what you stand for.” Slanslot mumbled, not even bothering to look towards Aroron.

  Aroron glared at him and crossed his arms. “And what does that mean?”

  Slanslot opened his mouth to respond, but his words fell silent and he dropped his chin against his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed. “My father was killed in the Great War.” He whispered. “He thought the ‘Dragon King’ was going to save us all. Obviously, he was wrong! He died believing in a hope that did nothing for him. It definitely didn’t keep him alive.”

  Now, Aroron partly understood him. But not fully. “You can’t blame me for what happened to him, it was hundreds of years before I was even bor
n!”

  “I don’t blame you.” Slanslot said, gripping the railing tighter. “I blame the ‘Dragon King’ for giving my father false hope, which drove him to his grave.”

  “I’m not here to give people ‘hope’, Slanslot.” Aroron said, dropping his gaze. “I’m not even sure that I am this ‘Dragon King’.”

  Slanslot shrugged. “Lilay sure seems to think you are.” He mumbled, glaring at the building across from them.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Aroron asked, grinning. “I can see the way that you look at her, that you do.”

  Slanslot sighed. “She seems to be the only one in the realm who doesn’t know it!” he mumbled. “I’ve had a crush on her, since we were young.”

  Aroron laughed. “You realize, you are young, right?” Aroron asked, that’s when he saw the group of warriors, and… Enrick speaking to a girl, just down the alley way from them.

  Though he could only see the back of the girl, Aroron thought she looked familiar, but he couldn’t quiet place where he’d seen her before and he didn’t have time to think about it.

  Aroron quickly grabbed Slanslot’s collar and yanked him back down the alleyway, out of sight from Enrick.

  “Hey! Watch it!” Slanslot growled, pulling himself free of Aroron’s grasp. “What’s the big idea?”

  “Stay back!” Aroron ordered, pushing him up against the wall. “They might still be able to see us.”

  “What’s wrong?” Slanslot whispered, glancing around them.

  “Did you see the boy with the fiery red hair?” Aroron whispered to Slanslot and he nodded, as Aroron let him go. “That was Prince Enrick, King Munay’s son.”

  Slanslot looked towards the direction they’d seen them, then back to Aroron. “How do you know it’s him?”

  Aroron looked at Slanslot. “We grew up together. I’d have once called him friend, but I’m not so sure about that anymore. Not if he’s the one who burned down that village we saw.” Aroron rubbed his head. It didn’t make any sense!