Dragon King Charlie

by Scott Baron

  “My plan is to help the people, Bob,” he replied in a clear voice. “We can be so much more efficient in the way things are run. The old king had a lot of waste going on under his watch, and I aim to remedy that.”

  A low murmur among the men signaled that his words had indeed made it to their intended ears.

  “We arrived in this kingdom by unexpected means, and I seized this crown when the situation forced it, but we did not come here to become wealthy. Hell, we already live in a castle. What more could we want? At what point does amassing more wealth make a king’s rule any better?”

  “I couldn’t say, Sire,” Bawb replied, pleased with the direction the king’s speech was heading.

  “Tax revenues will still be collected, but at more reasonable rates. What is needed to support the kingdom, of course, and enough to provide for the staff and my soldiers, naturally. But beside those crucial things, our tax revenues can be put to so much better use than acquiring more tapestries and piles of gold.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “From what we saw today, some of my subjects occasionally fall upon hard times. While their neighbors may help them when they can, it should be my obligation as king to see to the well-being of my subjects. I would put aside a fund to provide emergency services, such as food, field help, and even temporary shelter, if need be, for my people. Enough to get them back on their feet and self-sufficient. We may live in a dark age, but there’s no reason for our people to suffer for it.”

  “No man wishes to live by handouts, Sire,” Bawb said, steering the conversation.

  “Of course not. But a wise man also knows there is no shame in accepting help so he can once more become the captain of his own destiny.”

  Charlie was on a roll, and as Ara glided by overhead, he was glad for her presence, as his guards were so intent on his next words, he worried bandits might actually take them by surprise if they were so foolish as to harbor ill intent. Of course, there was also the man who was most definitely not at risk of being taken unaware riding at his side.

  He quickened his pace a little, gesturing for Bawb to accompany him at the head of the procession where they might talk privately a moment.

  “You know, Bob. I have heard talk of a highwayman roaming the roads and woods at night.”

  “Oh? A problem, then?” the assassin replied, his face impassive.

  “Well, apparently this man inflicts great violence on those who would assault and rob my subjects, leaving them maimed, dead, or wishing they were as often as not, while my people remain unharmed.”

  “Ah, I see. So not a problem, then?” he replied with a faint smile.

  Charlie flashed him a grin. “So long as you keep doing this Robin Hood thing and don’t get caught, I see no harm in it.”

  “Me? Why, Sire, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the deadly Wampeh said with a knowing, pointy-toothed smile.

  “You know, it sounds like fun, actually. Maybe I’ll have to take a late-night stroll sometime. You know, just to get some air. Perhaps you’d even care to join me.”

  “It sounds like it might make for a nice outing. And there has been word of some unusually well-armed bandits these past few days. Men with military gear. Mayhap, we might have ourselves a little fun.”

  “Hang on a second,” Charlie said, sobering slightly. “Military? Are these scouts? Are we being invaded?”

  “No, nothing like that. Not yet, at least. But I do fear that word of the former king’s fall has spread, and it’s only natural that your grasp on this kingdom will eventually be challenged.”

  “Ugh, just great,” Charlie groaned. “I’m so done with fighting.”

  Bawb chuckled. “Perhaps, my friend. But fighting is certainly not done with you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dusk had uncorked its nightly magic, the sky’s colors shifting from gray to indigo as the sun set in the west. The men were in good spirits as they left the king and returned to their barracks and families now that their liege was safely within the castle’s walls.

  The ride had brightened their spirits, and the exceptionally hearty lunch had found a happy home in their bellies. And now, with several casks of wine, courtesy of the king, they were sure to warm their bodies even further, singing and carousing until the wee hours.

  Bawb had an errand he needed to run for Hunze, leaving Charlie to stroll the grounds surrounding the castle alone, for a change. While technically he should have summoned some of the guards to accompany him, Charlie opted not to, the solitude offering him a much-needed opportunity to take in his surroundings and simply be.

  Finally, beneath darkening skies, he turned from his walk, heading back to join the others for dinner. His eyes fell upon the new garden plots. They were rather extensive, he noted. Leila’s freshly-tilled soil and rows of seedlings were indeed an improvement over the formerly untended ground, but he could see where the enormous stump lodged in the clay soil was giving her problems. A literal stick in the mud, so to speak.

  Still, despite the dead tree’s stubborn blight blocking her plans, the queen’s vision was clear, and the beginning of what would surely be a beautiful garden was taking shape.

  Dinner was a festive event, with a fresh cask of the newly-acquired wine tapped, the contents shared liberally with not only the king and his friends, but the kitchen and house staff as well. The king’s generosity, while unusual for a royal, most certainly did not go unnoted.

  They filled their bellies and shared stories of their day until late, then, finally all turned in for a good night’s sleep.

  It was quite late when Charlie snuck from his chambers, wearing a dark cloak and his quietest boots. He would never reach Bawb’s levels of stealth, but he could nevertheless be quite silent when need be. He stopped at the cache of magical devices he had hidden on the ground floor, gathering a lone konus for himself from behind the layered shimmer spells that made the hiding spot blend in with the stone wall.

  The king then unbolted the small side door and carefully stepped out into the night. His breath was visible in the cold air, the exhaled mist giving him away in the moonlight. Quickly, he wrapped a scarf around his nose and mouth, effectively stifling his exhales until he once again blended into the shadows.

  All but the guards high on the walls were asleep at this hour, so he felt reasonably confident in his anonymity as he approached the stump that had been vexing Leila so. He reached out, lightly placing his hands on the long-dead wood. Silently, without so much as moving his lips, he recited a simple spell, the konus on his wrist glowing slightly in the dark.

  As his connection to Ara grew stronger and stronger, his need to verbalize spells had diminished until it was gone entirely. She had been making him practice the art since they had first met, but now he was exceeding her expectations by a long shot.

  He had taught the basics of the technique his Zomoki friend had shown him to Bawb, and the assassin––unsurprisingly––had shown quite that aptitude for the new skill. It would be very useful for one in his line of work to cast completely silently by force of will alone. Such things were occasionally spoken of, but even his ancient order had not mastered the art.

  Ara, however, had, and––after extracting a promise and blood oath he would never share what she taught him with the other assassins of the Wampeh Ghalian sect should they somehow return home one day––she schooled him in the ways of casting by will. Of making a spell not with words, but with intent. The Wampeh assassin gained a new tool. One he was sworn to take to the grave with him.

  But none of that concerned Charlie at the moment. What did was the troublesome stump spoiling Leila’s project. She was trying to make the castle grounds more pleasant, and the project really meant a lot to her. As such, it meant a lot to Charlie as well.

  He silently cast his spell. The wood beneath his hands creaked and snapped before he added a muting spell to the one already in play, weaving the two together in a sing-song manner unique to the odd hu
man.

  Ara had speculated that the rhythmic manner in which he memorized, and later cast combined spells, might have been the reason he had succeeded in feats of magic where others had failed. Whatever the case, the layered spell silenced the sounds of the stump as it tore free of the ground, hovering a foot above the freshly-turned soil.

  Charlie carefully directed the massive piece of wood far from Leila’s garden, setting it down against an unused area near the castle’s wall where it could dry out in coming months, eventually becoming fuel for the kitchen’s ovens.

  He looked at the hole in the ground where the tree’s last remains had been. The ground was damp, and fecund, and churning with worms. He smiled to himself as he cast another spell, pushing the surrounding soil over it, leveling the whole area into a workable surface. With all of those worms burrowing and fertilizing as they went, whatever she planted here now was sure to grow heartily.

  Pleased at the result of his labor, Charlie walked back to the small door and stepped inside, bolting it firmly behind him as he walked back to bed.

  Silent as the night itself, a pair of eyes had watched him from the dark, their owner most intrigued by what they had seen.

  Chapter Twenty

  The fist that whipped past Charlie’s face only barely missed, his reflexes having to kick into overdrive to avoid the attack. The follow up kick to the ribs, however, he simply didn’t see coming.

  “Again,” Bawb said, his sweat-soaked hair tied back from his face.

  “Sonofa––“

  “Stop griping and start fighting. Now concentrate!” Bawb launched another series of empty-hand attacks, his limbs a blur of activity.

  Charlie ducked and twisted, his body bending in ways that would have seemed impossible to him just a few short years ago, even with Rika’s forcing him into shape before their failed mission launched.

  But that was years ago, and now, after Ser Baruud’s lengthy training, combined with the Geist’s painful drills, moving as was required to flow with combat was as natural as breathing.

  Breathing. That thing that became hard to do when a punch landed in his solar plexus.

  “Shit,” he managed to gasp as he dropped to one knee.

  “Better, but there’s room for improvement,” Bawb said, tossing a water skin to his sparring partner.

  Charlie caught it despite his spasming diaphragm, downing several big gulps before forcing himself to slow his intake. Both men were shirtless, having long-since soaked their tunics in the increasingly stuffy confines of the smaller dungeon area they’d relocated to.

  Charlie’s punishment for one of his subjects had been to clean the dungeons. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and indeed, the man was repenting his actions with every layer of blood, grime, and filth he removed. But it also meant he and Bawb had to constantly switch training spaces to avoid unwanted eyes from learning the pale man’s true martial prowess.

  “You really think I’m getting better?” Charlie asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “Yes, I do,” Bawb said. “Though you have a long way to go, yet, before I would consider you a worthy adversary.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I mean no offense by it. You simply asked for my honest assessment. And believe me, I’d wager that you could more than hold your own against even the most talented agents of the Council of Twenty. And you are definitely far more skilled than any on this planet, from what I’ve seen.”

  “Well, there’s that, then,” he replied.

  Footsteps sounded outside the heavy door, then the latch ground open.

  “I thought he was cleaning the big room today,” Charlie hissed.

  “He is. Or was supposed to be,” Bawb said, jumping into the shadows and vanishing, as he was wont to do.

  “Hey, fellas,” Leila said, walking into the room, Baloo at her side. She sniffed the air, and wrinkled her nose. “I think this place could really use a window if you’re going to keep using it like this.”

  Charlie rose to his feet and jokingly sniffed his armpits. “What? Are you saying we stink?”

  “I do not stink,” Bawb said, sliding from the shadows.

  Charlie couldn’t help but laugh, his pumped muscles tensing under his skin as he did. Leila couldn’t help but notice. She quickly looked away, examining the impromptu training space instead of her shirtless king.

  Baloo plodded over and moments later Charlie found himself wet with slobber where he’d formerly been covered in sweat. Baloo gave a small yowl, his tail wagging like a giant fan.

  “Hey, okay!” he laughed. “Enough, already. I know I’m like a giant salt lick, but come on, Baloo.”

  He grabbed the massive animal by the head and distributed a healthy serving of ear scratches until Baloo’s rear leg started spasming with a mind of its own. The leg’s owner leaned into it, eyes closed with bliss.

  “He’s ridiculous you know,” Charlie said.

  “Maybe, but he’s my boy,” Leila replied.

  At the sound of Mama’s voice, Baloo opened his eyes and looked at her with anticipation.

  “It’s okay, Baloo. We’re just talking about you,” she said. “Now Charlie, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

  “Oh, and here I thought you had just come all the way down here to cover us with slobber. I notice that Bob has somehow avoided the drooling dog treatment.”

  “Baloo and I have an understanding,” the Wampeh said. “He doesn’t slobber on me, I don’t eat him.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Leila said with mock horror.

  “Of course not,” Bawb said with a grin. “Far too much fur to be worth the effort.”

  “So, you were saying?” Charlie asked.

  “Ah, yes. I wanted to know, did you pull out that stump?”

  Charlie wiped himself off with a rag. It was better than dog drool, he figured. “I can neither confirm nor deny tha––“

  “That was foolish, Charlie. Not pulling the stump, but there’s no way you did it without using magic.”

  “A little konus never hurt anyone.”

  “But if someone saw you––“

  “It was late. No one did.”

  “But why risk it? I mean, I get it, you miss using your magic, but It’s just not like you to take such an unnecessary risk. You have to be more careful. It was a dumb thing to do.”

  He paused a moment. “It was, I suppose. But I know this garden project means a lot to you, and I just wanted to do something to help. Sorry.”

  Leila paused, at a brief loss for words as color flushed her cheeks.

  “I, uh––“

  “And I was hoping you might plant some of those Tsokin berries out there. We’ve been out of coffee for weeks, you know.”

  Bawb winced. “Yes, we are all quite aware. Why in the worlds you traded the last few bags of beans to those bright-eyed explorers I will never know.”

  “Because they were full of piss and vinegar, Bob.”

  “Piss and vinegar?”

  “It’s a saying. What I mean is, they were adventurers, off to face danger. To see the world, heading to all corners of the globe.”

  “Charlie, a globe is by its nature round.”

  “Yes, Bob, I know. Again, a figure of speech. And as for why, I thought rather than just give them safe passage and a bed for the night, why not do more than what any other king would do? With the dried berries, they could plant their own, you know. I explained the process, so in theory, they could be brewing up their own cups in a mere year or two from now.”

  “In some distant land.”

  “Precisely.” Charlie paused, a thought flashing through his mind. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” Leila asked.

  “I just realized, what if they actually do plant the Tsokin berries along the way.”

  “Then the plants would grow, obviously.”

  “Right. But that means Tsokin berries might actually be coffee. We’re here, thousands of years before my time, and I brought them w
ith me when we fled your galaxy. What if I’m the reason coffee exists on my planet? What if coffee came from outer space?”

  “It does seem a strange, but entirely possible scenario,” Bawb said. “But that doesn’t make your use of magic any less foolish. Even if it was to help Leila.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just thought she’d like it, is all,” he said, slightly dejected. “Anyway, I should go clean up and get back to king stuff.

  He slipped into his damp tunic and headed out the door.

  “Charlie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Fool that you may be, thank you, all the same,” Leila said.

  Charlie gave her a little smile and headed out the door, Leila watching as he left. Bawb couldn’t help but notice her eyes linger on him a bit longer than in the past. “Come on, Baloo, let’s go,” she said a moment later.

  “Hmm,” the Wampeh mused, then followed his friend to clean up and return to his official business.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Leila spent the next week planting her garden, including a special section for Charlie’s Tsokin berries. Or coffee, if that was indeed what they were. The implications of his traveling through not only space, but time as well, all for the universe’s grand plan of becoming the man who brought coffee to the planet was an amusing twist not lost on either of them.

  Her castle labors had required her to temporarily cut short the daily outings to visit the farmers in the area, but she nevertheless made an effort to see as many as she could over the course of the week. Charlie was right. As rulers of the land, one of their concerns was the well-being of their subjects, and as odd as it felt being a queen, that part of the job came naturally to her.

  “Karl, I’ll be heading out for a stroll shortly,” she told the sandy blond guard leading her entourage.

  “Of course, my queen,” he replied. “I shall ready the men.”

  “Thank you. Your attention to your duties is greatly appreciated.”