The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  “Alright.” She whispered. “I’ll see you around, Aroron.”

  He smiled at her. “Maybe.”

  With that, Gana turned and hurried down the street. Already, the rest of the group were far ahead.

  Shoulders drooping, Aroron turned away. It wasn’t until that moment, he realized how hungry he’d become. Not surprising, seeing as he’d not eaten for several days.

  Quickly, he did a scan of his surroundings.

  “There.” He mumbled to himself, spotting a sign with a loaf of bread and two ale mugs. That had to be a tavern! Brushing off his coat, he made his way towards the building. He knew he probably looked like a mess after everything he’d been through, but right then, he didn’t care. He just wanted something to eat.

  As he pushed the door open, a rush of smells hit Aroron in the face

  A mixture of sweat, old food and too many people. Aroron kept his hood up and his head low, as he shoved his way to an empty stool next to the tavern’s counter. The stool’s feet scraped against the wood floor, as he scooted it back and sat down.

  He waited a minute then yelled to the tavern keeper, "How much does the bread cost?” Motioning to where they sat in a pile.

  "Two coppers per loaf." The man growled, as he grabbed up a pile of plates and tossed them to someone else and turned back to Aroron. "Is that what you want to order?"

  "I... I've lost my money bag. But I can wor..." Aroron started.

  "I'm not feeding beggars here!" He snarled, as he grabbed Aroron by the ear and yanked him off the stool. "Now, get out before I tan your hide, you Vreck!"

  “I’m sorry, I just thought I could work off the food!” Aroron hissed at the man.

  "Trying to steal bread from me, is more like it!" The tavern keeper spat, slapping Aroron across the face, as he shoved him towards the door. “Get out of here, before I have one of my friends beat you out of here!”

  “No need.” Aroron mumbled, fighting the urge to hit the man, as he hurried back towards the door. His cheek stung as he stumbled out of the tavern and back on to the dusty street. It had been long enough since he'd eaten, that his hunger started to numb. But still, he needed something to eat.

  Though how, he wasn’t sure. The people here in Shey, were obviously not very friendly. Aroron was just heading down the street, when he heard the sound of the tavern keeper stepping out of the tavern behind him.

  "That boy tried to steal bread from me!" The tavern keeper yelled, towards the three city guards standing cross the street from the tavern, talking. When they heard his yelling, they turned towards him.

  Aroron's eyes locked with one of the guards, then he turned around and dashed down the street. He heard yelling, and the sound of pounding footsteps just behind him. He skirted around a corner and bolted down a side street.

  "Stop!" One of the guards yelled after him, but Aroron wasn't about to listen.

  If the tavern keepers were this 'welcoming', how much more were the guards? He didn’t care to find out.

  Aroron turned another corner and stopped short.

  The road in front of him ended.

  He glanced around and tried to think. He needed to find a way out of there, and fast. That’s when he had an idea. Aroron hurried towards one of the buildings, with a clothesline hanging from it.

  He jumped up and grabbed onto the clothesline, strung between the two buildings above him, yanking on one side. Ripping the line down, he wrapped it around his hands, and began to climb up the side of the building, as fast as he could. When he reached the top, he grabbed onto the edge of the roof and pulled himself up.

  Quickly, he ducked behind the edge of the roof and dropped onto his stomach.

  His heart thudded in his chest, as he listened to the sound of the guards running past him in the street below. He’d just barely made it to the roof in time!

  Aroron lay there for a minute.

  The sound of the guards’ steps echoed away, as he let out a long breath and stood up. Then he turned back towards the street.

  As much as he’d like to, he knew he couldn’t sit on someone's roof all day. He had to find somewhere to stay and something to eat. Coming to Shey was starting to be yet another very stupid thing he’d done.

  He lowered himself as much as he could, then let go, carefully dropping to the ground. The sand crunching under his feet, as he stood up.

  Still staying close to the wall, Aroron looked around him.

  Most of the buildings looked like they were houses, but across the street was a blacksmith shop, with smoke rising from the chimney. Maybe he could find a job there. He knew he needed to find a job and earn some money, if he wanted to eat.

  Apparently, no one would trade food for work.

  Aroron wasn't an expert, but he knew how to sharpen a blade, and he could mold a rough dagger. Maybe, just maybe, he could get a job there and maybe this day wouldn’t turn out to be another terrible day, in a long list of terrible days.

  He didn't know where else you could get a job, so it didn’t look like he had much of a choice. This place was out of the way, which was good because he couldn't take anything where he might be recognized.

  Loyal Warriors came through here all the time. Aroron was sure there was probably one here already. He should have thought about that before he’d agreed to come here, but it was too late now.

  He was stuck in Shey and had to find a way to survive.

  Aroron ran his hand through his hair, as he pulled his hood down. In this heat, he was going to stick out more if he wore his hood up. He glanced around, checking for people watching him, then hurried across the street to the door of the blacksmith. He wrapped his hand around the handle, taking in a long breath, he yanked it open.

  A wave of heat flooded out the door and blew against him.

  Smoke poured into his eyes and he blinked back tears, as he pushed himself forwards and into the sweltering heat inside the building. He'd thought the heat outside was bad! It was nothing compared to this.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to wear his coat inside of there. He tugged at his collar, as the door slid closed behind him.

  Other than being as hot as the sun, the room was darkly lit by a roaring fire in the back of the store. All sorts of weapons hung on the walls. Their sharp blades glittering in the firelight. Swords, knives, war-hammers, war-axes and daggers. Just to name a few. There was every weapon you could think of!

  Maybe this wasn’t your run of the mill blacksmith after all.

  The sound of metal hitting metal rang through the smithy's shop and echoed in Aroron's ears, pulling him out of his thoughts.

  Careful to avoid any sharp blades, Aroron slowly moved to the back of the room, where the blacksmith worked, a counter standing between him and the front of the shop. This was probably his best bet at getting a job and he wasn't going to turn back now.

  He cleared his throat, but couldn’t bring himself to speak.

  "What do you want kid?!" The man behind the counter asked, glancing up towards him, as he continued to pound away at something. "I don't sell to children."

  That was enough to break Aroron out of his nervousness. “First off, I’m not a child, I’m fifteen. And second, I'm looking for a job, not to buy something." Aroron said, leaning against the counter. “I was wondering if I could get a job here.”

  The Blacksmith stopped working, turned towards Aroron and roared with laughter. "Do I look like I need a Fish-Worm like you to help me?" He asked, through another fit of laughter. Aroron didn't find the humor in it, but obviously he thought it was hilarious. "That's a good one, boy."

  "I'll work hard." Aroron said, crossing his arms and gripping them tightly together. "Whatever you ask I'll do. No matter what! I can handle more than you might think.

  "And I don't doubt it, laddy. But I'm not lookin' to pay a scrawny skeleton to help me out." He said, picking up another hammer. "If I did, I could hire me nephew. If I hire someone, it would be someone worthy of working here. I didn’t become th
e Palace’s blacksmith by giving jobs to children."

  "Just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking for." Aroron said, gripping the counter tightly. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if the man said no. He couldn't think of anything else he could do. If this man said no, what was the likelihood anyone else would say yes?

  The blacksmith sighed. "I don't think so..." His voice trailed off, as he looked at Aroron, then frowned. "What you got there?" he asked, motioning to Aroron’s sword.

  Aroron quickly pulled his coat over it. “Nothing.” He mumbled, dropping his gaze.

  “Come on, boy. You want me to give you a job, but you won’t show me what you have there?” he asked, eyeing Aroron. “That’s just not fair.”

  The blacksmith was right, but Aroron didn’t want to show him his sword. Inwardly, Aroron fought with himself.

  “Don’t you trust me to give it back?” the man said, half-jokingly.

  With a long sigh, Aroron unhooked his belt and placed it down onto the counter. “Fine, but be careful with it, please.”

  The blacksmith picked up the sword, and slowly slid the sword out of its scabbard. When he looked down at the blade, he whistled softly under his breath. “Well… you don’t see a sword like this very often, do you?”

  “No.” Aroron mumbled. “It’s one of a kind.”

  “It’s a piece of art, that’s what it is!” he said, holding it up to the light. “They don’t make swords like this anymore. It’s always about how fast you can make it, not like this one. It had to have taken years to make. Where did you get this?” he asked, sliding it back into its scabbard.

  Aroron’s mouth went dry. That’s a long story. He thought to himself, then he cleared his throat. “Someone close to me, gave it to me.” He said, holding his hand out for the sword. “So, can I work here, or not?”

  The blacksmith laughed. “Yes, if you work hard and I get to look at that sword again, closer next time.”

  Aroron flashed him a smile. “Deal.”

  * * *

  While Dasety and Dregana played with the scepter and fought against the Shenockien ships, Enrick spent his time studying the map of Tranton.

  After arguing with Dasety for what seemed like several hours, he finally told Enrick what they were really going to do with the Feeler and the scepter. And now, here he was, trying to figure out the best course for them.

  As he worked away, he could hear them pounding around on the main deck. They were making so much noise! Enrick nearly lost the map across the room, when the ship lurched several times.

  Finally, with another sway of the ship, everything grew quiet again.

  A minute later, the door opened and Dasety stepped in, followed by Dregana. “Now that you’re done playing, maybe we can get something done!” Enrick growled, glaring at Dregana as she entered the captain’s quarters and strolled across the room.

  “Maybe.” She said, swinging herself into Enrick’s hammock and laid back. “So… what’s the plan?” Dregana asked.

  “’So, what’s the plan?’.” Enrick mimicked. “Maybe I’d tell you, if you showed me a little respect.”

  “Now, why would I respect you?” She asked, resting her arms behind her head as she closed her eyes. “You’re just a nag.”

  “Why you little…” Prince Enrick started.

  “Can you two not get along?” Dasety asked, placing his hands onto the edge of the desk. “If you can’t, can you at least get over it enough to do what we’ve come to do? We have to work together, remember?”

  “Well, I know why I’m needed. But why is he?” Dregana asked, sitting back up. “What does he bring to the table?”

  “Well, first off, it’s a desk.” Enrick said. “And you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me. Remember?”

  “Remember?” She repeated, shoving herself out of the hammock. “What I remember, is you burnt down a village to get to me, not very noble of you.”

  “Well, it was your idea to burn down Hatter.” Enrick growled.

  “What?! How can you blame me for that?” she asked.

  Enrick couldn’t believe her! Was she really going to try and act all innocent about everything?!

  Dasety moaned. “This wasn’t what I was talking about. Can we please just get on with the job, and then you don’t have to see each other ever again. Sound good?”

  Rolling her eyes, Dregana leaned against the wall. “Fine, let’s get on with it then.”

  Sighing, Enrick moved back over to the desk and leaned against it. “Never seeing her again, sounds great.”

  “Good, now what’s the plan?” Dasety asked Enrick.

  “We’ll make port here.” Prince Enrick said, tapping the map. “It’s only a short walk to the ‘Iris’ from there, where I’m sure, Dregana knows what to do.”

  “Yeah! I know my part. Is that all you had to say?” Dregana asked, shoving herself off the wall, she walked towards the door. “Because, if it is, I plan on going to take a long nap before we make it to Tranton.” Without waiting for a response, she waltzed through the door and was gone.

  “I know you don’t like her, but must you egg her on?” Dasety asked, shaking his head. “You’re just making it worse for everyone. Things would go so much better if you would just get along with her.”

  “You know what? I think she’s got the right idea. I think I’ll get some sleep as well, so if you will, please leave.” Enrick said, motioning towards the door. “Goodnight, Dasety.”

  Dasety hesitated, then sighed. “Fine, goodnight.” Without another word to each other, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

  Once he was gone, Enrick plopped himself down onto the hammock and stared up at the roof of his quarters. He closed his eyes and growled. He was sick of everyone treating him like a no body! As if he wasn’t the heir to a kingdom. The kingdom in charge of all of this. If it wasn’t for his father none of this would have happened.

  Sometime later, Enrick was awakened to someone knocking on his door. “My lord!” one of the sailors called. “We’ve made port and Dasety said to come and get you.”

  Dasety said… He hated those words! “I’ll be out, when I’m out!” he yelled to the sailor, shoving himself to his feet. “And you can tell Dasety I said that!”

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Enrick headed towards his closet, grabbed out his cloak and straightened his clothing. He snatched up his sword, tying it around his waist as he walked towards the door.

  He slowly walked across the deck and towards the waiting boat. Dregana already sat in the boat, staring out at the water, she didn’t even look up when he reached it.

  By now all the sailors had gathered on the main deck to watch them go. Dasety nodded towards him, as he came to stand beside him.

  “When we’ve finished, we’ll send for you.” Enrick called out to the sailors, climbing into the boat. “Until then.” He said, sitting down. They saluted, but he wasn’t sure if they’d saluted him, or Dasety.

  As Dasety sat down in front of him Prince Enrick found it hard not to glare at him. Did he know Enrick hated his guts? He doubted it, and he planned on keeping it that way. Let him think he still had control over Enrick, one day he’d find out the truth.

  When Dasety looked at Enrick, the prince forced a smile. “Let’s do this thing.” He said, motioning to the sailor to lower the boat.

  None of them said a word to each other, as they rowed towards the shore. The silence between them was thick and no one seemed to want to break it. It continued on, even when they reached the shore.

  Enrick grabbed onto the edge of the boat and swung himself over. Splashing through the water, he made his way towards the shore. He knew Dasety and Dregana were right behind him, but he didn’t really care to check to make sure. They either were, or they weren’t, it was as simple as that.

  They hadn’t gone far inland, before Dasety and Dregana passed him up and continued down the path.

  “Are you nervous?” Dasety asked her, placing his hand gently
on Dregana’s shoulder and squeezing it.

  “Now what do I have to be nervous about?” she asked, forcing a smile. “I’m just about to fulfill a prophecy, that’s all. What’s there to be nervous about?”

  Dasety laughed, and Enrick couldn’t help but roll his eyes, as he trudged down the path behind them. He couldn’t wait until she was gone! This whole thing couldn’t end soon enough.

  Finally, they reached the shoreline beside the Iris, and came into view of the glittering blue lake. In the center of the lake stood a sandy white pillar with a stand on top of it. It looked like a sand castle some child might build. Except for the fact that it looked like it was floating on the water.

  “That’s it?” Prince Enrick asked, sneering as he looked the thing over. “That’s the ‘Iris’? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “Not much to look at, is it?” Dasety said, laughing.

  “It’s tiny!” Enrick said shaking his head. “Is that really the top of a city? It looks like a toy castle.”

  “Well, it’s not.” Dregana said, pulling off her cloak. She tossed it to Dasety and flashed him a smile. “Let’s do this.” With that she ran forwards and jumped into the water. She swam faster than anyone Enrick had ever seen. She looked like a natural in the water.

  Like the mermaids his mother used to tell him stories about. Without her face masked, she was as beautiful as one.

  Clearing his throat, Enrick quickly shook away these thoughts.

  By now, Dregana grabbed onto the little castle and pulled herself over the edge and onto the top of the stand. She stood there for a moment, and rung out her hair.

  “Is she going to do something, or what?” Enrick asked Dasety. “I don’t care to watch her prep her hair all day.”

  “Will you shut up?!” she yelled at him. “I can hear you clear over here!” Dregana growled, and with that, she shook out her hair and grabbed the scepter she’d strapped to her back.

  “She’s a grouch.” Enrick mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms as he stared up at the sky.

  “I can still hear you!” she called out, just before she brought the scepter down against the ground of the castle-like structure.