Angst Box Set 1

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Angst Box Set 1 Page 2

by David Pedersen


  He quickly took a drink to avoid her gaze. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the table.

  “Are you sure she’s not a prostitute?” Hector said, trying once again to change the subject.

  Graloon walked over and slapped him firmly on the shoulder. “If you’re talking about the new waitress, that’d be my niece.”

  Hector began stuttering an apology as he stood to face the barkeep. Graloon couldn’t keep a smirk from creeping across his mouth.

  Hector shook his head. “Ohhh. You, sir, are an ass.”

  Graloon laughed and gave Hector a much lighter pat. “I don’t have any nieces, and if I did, I wouldn’t let them anywhere near you lot. I just hired her because of the nice view.”

  Everyone at the table laughed. Well, everyone but Rose.

  “Enjoy your drinks,” Graloon said respectfully then left to barkeep.

  “So you all built the Wizard’s Revenge?” Rose asked skeptically.

  “On that note, I leave this party in your capable hands.” Dallow stood and nodded to Angst.

  “You haven’t even had your fifth glass yet,” Angst quipped.

  “I barely saw him finish his first,” said Tarness.

  “Next time,” Dallow replied with a polite bow to the table.

  “I’ll join you, I need to head out as well.” Hector nodded his goodbye to everyone. On their way out, he whispered something to Dallow, and they both laughed.

  “I thought they didn’t get along that well. When did that start?” Rose asked as the two men walked out the door.

  Angst could do nothing but shrug, disappointment weighing him down. Could their weekly outing really be ending already? Their visits were becoming shorter every week. How long would it be before they stopped altogether?

  The three remained quiet for a few more minutes when Rose finally stood.

  “You old people get boring when it’s past your bedtime. Have a good weekend.” She waved an awkward goodbye at Angst and Tarness, glowered at the waitress for a moment, and made her exit.

  Angst and Tarness stared at each other. Angst finally broke the silence. “You don’t have to stay, just to be polite.”

  “Okay, thanks, Angst.” Tarness stood, thumped Angst on the shoulder, and left.

  Angst stared at the two full pitchers of port, and watched condensation drip to the table. There was a time when their gatherings closed the bar, and they stumbled out together, dumb and happy—a great distraction he sorely missed. What had happened to them? What had broken?

  It wasn’t long before his wife, Heather, entered the pub. She greeted several friends on the way to the table. Like Angst, Heather was getting older. Her long, curly brown hair was peppered with gray. She complained about being overweight, but he didn’t see it. Angst only saw her smiles—the one on her full lips, and the one in her eyes. Neither of them were twenty, or even thirty, but forty wasn’t so very old as it looked. He enjoyed taking in the view of Heather as she sauntered over and sat on Angst’s lap.

  “Instead of pouting alone and gawking at the new barmaid, you should come home and help me make a baby,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Angst smirked, looked at the empty seats around the table then looked into his wife’s brown eyes. “How could I possibly turn down seduction like that? Let’s go.”

  3

  The next morning Angst found himself alone in a small courtyard with Victoria, which made him shuffle his feet nervously and suck in his gut a bit. She stood before him, not noticing, or maybe ignoring, his awkwardness, and smiled. Angst very much wanted to breathe in deeply, and sigh for about a half hour. The trouble wasn’t so much in the need for the sigh itself. He had sighed many times in front of her, and another would be easily dismissed as being very Angst. The trouble was proximity. She stood so very close, a step past that invisible line typically broken by make out sessions or the socially inept. Taking a deep breath would overwhelm him with strawberry-scented dark hair and delicately-perfumed pale skin, and he really didn’t think of her that way. Often.

  Angst had met Victoria two years ago, when she was seventeen, and he was too old to be talking to a seventeen-year-old who wasn’t a daughter or niece. He’d been sweating in uncomfortable formal attire, in an uncomfortable formal room, listening to the queen drone on and on about some sort of treatise between various dukedoms and so much blah blah blah. Why was he even invited—well, ordered actually—to attend these things? Nobody asked his opinion, which was readily available in vast quantities. There were no notes to take, barely even mental ones as there were no follow-up actions that needed doing. He could only conclude that the queen hated him, and the meetings were a sort of punishment. Not only for being who he was and doing what he could do, but as a result of some deeper personality clash.

  Angst didn’t hate the queen, but a terrible deep and grating dislike for her filled his heart. He disliked everything about her—from how she treated those like him, to how she spoke to him, to how she carried herself—but especially her voice. Her nails-on-a-chalkboard high-pitched raven-squawking voice that made everyone’s shoulders visibly tense. The queen’s unique version of a bizarre highborn accent required that she roll her rrrrrrs and pronounce some of her vowels different than those of improper lineage.

  This mutual lack of admiration often inspired Angst to do things he shouldn’t, rather like a petulant child. During her longer speeches, he feigned such close attention to what the queen would say that he often made eye contact. One didn’t do this with any royalty, and especially not with the queen, but what could she do in the middle of a speech? On this particular day, however, during this particularly long and high-pitched opera of boredom, he snuck out. He was driven by his desire to breathe and not to be smothered by the wickedness of doldrums.

  His sneaking brought him to an area of the castle he hadn’t explored. While elated to be out of the meeting, he was still frustrated at having wasted his morning. This dichotomy brought about a great amount of mumbling, and he paid little attention to where his feet took him. When he pushed his way through a pair of elaborately carved doors into a small courtyard, he was taken aback at the beauty around him. Ivy and roses covered the stone walls, and an open ceiling offered a welcome glimpse of the blue sky. Ornate white marble planters and several stone pedestals had been thoughtfully placed around the polished white marble floor. In the center, a beautiful fountain featured a very naked statue of a young woman pouring water from a pitcher. It was a very relaxing place, and Angst took a moment to breathe in the solitude.

  Other than the sound of bubbling water, it was quiet, and he couldn’t help but feel he was disturbing something. His frustration had abated slightly, but after several seconds of looking around, he resumed his mumbling. This quickly grew from mere distracted behavior to near performance level volume as he began his somewhat poor yet recognizable impersonation of the queen. It was a great way to release pent up frustration. It was a bad, very bad, way to get caught doing something very stupid.

  “Angst!” spittle spittle. “Take these documents immediately to yourrrrr hovel in the celarrrr and file them and yourrrrrrself away forrrreverrrr.” He stood straight, stuck out his chest, and straightened his shirt by pulling forcefully on the sides. “Make cerrrrtain that you don’t use magi—”

  His speech was abruptly ended by a quickly stifled giggle. It took several minutes of peeking behind pillars and bushes to find the attractive young teen in hiding.

  She was crouched over with her hand covering her mouth. At the sight of Angst, she stood quickly, arching her back in a somewhat pompous manner, and tried not to smile. She was skinny in an awkward sort of way, as though she hadn’t properly grown into her body. Her lips were too full for her face, her fine black hair reached her waist, her attire was quite ornate, and she wore a bit too much makeup for her age. The combination almost made Angst a little uncomfortable as he really couldn’t discern how old she was. She was attractive in the way young women often are, and
fortunately didn’t seem upset that he was there.

  Rather than apologize for being where he probably shouldn’t, Angst questioned the young woman. “So, did you like my impersonation?”

  She seemed quite surprised, even taken aback by his directness, as if expecting something else. Her surprise passed quickly, and she stepped a bit closer to him. “Not quite haughty enough. I’ve heard her speak many times, and you are very close, but your ‘Rs’ aren’t quite right...”

  Smirking, Angst nodded once and tried the queen’s voice again. “I am so honorrred to make yourrrr acquaintance.” He cleared his throat to ensure his voice returned to normal. “My name is Angst.”

  She laughed, and very ladylike, held out her hand. “Please call me Tori.”

  Angst leaned forward in a very exaggerated bow, playing along with her formality, and slowly kissed Tori’s hand. “It is my pleasure.” He gave her a cheeky grin.

  Tori blushed prettily then giggled. “So, Angst... Your name is really Angst?”

  “Yes,” he answered politely.

  “Angst, what is a man of the court doing wandering around this particular courtyard?”

  “To be perfectly honest,” he whispered, “I’m in hiding.”

  Tori’s fine eyebrows raised in mock skepticism. “What could a brave knight like yourself possibly be afraid of?”

  “Me? A knight?” His heart skipped a beat at the compliment. “I could only dream. Actually, milady, I fear a slow death brought on by stuffy bureaucracy and, specifically, meetings.” He went on. “Hours and hours of talking and re-talking about the same...something, until most of the day has been spent coordinating the placement of planters, or the removal of rocks, or the digging of moats, or countless other equally exciting ventures. All done in the name of progress. And in the same time that one of these meetings took place you could have removed all of the rocks from Unsel, dug, filled and re-dug new moats around every keep, and carved new marble planters for every man, woman, and child.” He sighed. Noticing he was losing his audience, he quickly added, “All that, and the queen hates me, so I’m hiding from her.”

  Tori had seemed politely bored at Angst’s complaints, until he mentioned the queen. “Really? The queen hates you?” she asked almost hopefully.

  “I’m certain of it.” She’d clearly warmed to this, and he couldn’t help but take the bait. “It’s not just how she looks at me, or speaks to me, or speaks to others about me...she also hates me for what I can do. Or maybe she hates me for what I can do, and the rest comes with the package, I haven’t yet decided.”

  There was an uncomfortable pause in their conversation. Tori cocked her head to one side, an expressive eyebrow raised with curiosity. “What can you do?” Her eyes widened, and she shifted closer to him then whispered, “Do you mean that you are inflicted with magics?”

  “Inflicted?” Angst smiled and widened his eyes too. “Well, I may mean that. I may know something about magic. That wouldn’t make you hate me, would it?”

  “Oh no. I’m not like the queen,” she said adamantly. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, luring him down a path they shouldn’t walk. “Would you show me?”

  “Really? Using magic, here in the open, is more than a little illegal.” Then he whispered again with mock concern, “Like I said, it’s one of the reasons the queen hates me.”

  She stepped too close, and Angst’s cheeks warmed. “It will be our secret, I promise.”

  He shuffled back, returning to his comfort zone. What was this game she played, entering his personal safety bubble where Heather was allowed but beautiful teens weren't? Her presence was overwhelming, intoxicating, and Angst knew his judgment was askew. Was she being honest, or overly curious? He steeled himself and looked into her eyes. Deep down, beyond the flirt and wonder, was a wisdom and sincerity that took him by surprise. “I believe you,” Angst decided aloud.

  He kneeled and reached toward the marble stone at their feet, his brow furrowing in concentration. He touched the fingertips of his right hand to the marble then cupped his hand over it. Slowly, very slowly, a small stalk of marble grew out of the stone. Tori gasped, but he remained focused. It had been a while, and his hand began to vibrate with the stress of willing this thing to happen, an aura of blue light surrounding his palm. The marble stalk continued to rise until it was twice the length of his hand. A bulb appeared at the tip of the stalk and then opened to become a beautiful rose. The animation of the stone rose blooming was meant for effect, and Tori drew in a little breath. Several marble leaves furled out from the base of the stalk, and slowly, a vein of gold wove amongst the leaves and petals.

  Angst took a deep breath and wiped a tiny bead of sweat from his brow. He plucked his creation from the ground, made a gentle bow, and handed the beautiful marble rose to the attractive young woman.

  Her eyes were wide and her expression so stunned, for a brief moment, he feared she would yell for help. Instead, she reached forward and took the rose. She looked as though she would smell it then thought better of the notion.

  “I know,” Angst said, “pretty evil thing I’m ‘inflicted’ with.” His father once said that timing is everything, especially bad timing. As if on cue, the ground began to shake, a gentle vibration that quickly intensified.

  Tori let out a short scream and braced herself against a pillar, staring at Angst. Earthquakes never happened at the castle. He was alarmed, and embarrassed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Had she really flustered him that much? The shaking became more violent, and some pillars toppled. Grabbing Tori’s arm Angst pulled her away from a falling pillar. Having lost her footing, she clung tightly to him. When she was close, the room continued to shake, but they did not.

  “How did... Did you...?” she began to ask.

  Angst closed his eyes. He stood very still, and reached out both hands. Concentration scrunched his forehead into his nose as he turned his palms down and willed the ground to stop shaking. Tori still clung to Angst, as they were both bathed in the blue light of magic he had summoned. He willed, and he willed, though it took all his strength and effort. Even while he forced the ground to stop shuddering, he berated himself for being a showoff.

  The courtyard, now in shambles, was once again quiet. Water sputtered out of a new crack in the fountain wall and puddled at their feet. Angst was sweating as much as he had during the boring meeting.

  Tori let go slowly and took two steps back.

  “I’m very sorry about that,” said Angst, quite out of breath. “That hasn’t happened in a long time. I must be out of practice.”

  He knew his excuse was lame, but Tori’s shoulders lowered slightly. She almost smiled at Angst, but then suddenly screamed again. Angst found himself on the ground, the remainder of his breath knocked out. The courtyard was quickly filling with soldiers and knights and footmen and what appeared to be the rest of the kingdom. Angst attempted to take a few short breaths, but it was hard to do so lying on his back facing the tips of so many swords and halberds.

  Quiet returned once again, and a path was cleared to the entrance of the courtyard, save for the few heroes who’d knocked Angst senseless and kept their pointy things aimed at his face. The queen, of all people, entered the courtyard and walked straight to Tori. She seemed petrified, and Tori looked somewhat petulant.

  Angst wanted to say that it wasn’t Tori’s fault, but only got as far as coughing out, “Wait,” before he noticed that, behind her back, Tori was making a stopping motion with her hand. The odd moment had become surreal, and Angst had to wonder if he’d landed on his head.

  “Daughter... Victoria, are you all right?” the queen asked, facing Tori, her unique dialect almost completely lost in the face of her obvious concern.

  Angst’s eyes grew large and his jaw hung low. The shock immediately found his stomach, and squeezed hard. He hoped silently that he wouldn’t throw up in front of the princess.

  “Of course, Mother,” Victoria replied. Those three words were bitten out with more de
fiance than the rest of the combined room had the bravery to muster. It was refreshing to see someone face the queen like that, and he couldn’t help but close his mouth and smile slightly.

  The queen ignored the tone and turned slowly to face Angst. “For endangering my daughter...death.”

  “Wait!” Victoria yelled. “He saved me! The ground started shaking, and Mr. Angst ran in and pushed me out of the way of this falling pillar.” She stepped to her mother and grabbed the queen’s sleeve. “He saved me, Mother.”

  The queen seemed surprised by her daughter’s reaction, though not entirely convinced. Finally, she looked over at Angst. “By all means then, a hero,” she said mockingly. At her nod, the guards withdrew their weapons and helped Angst to his feet. Several dusted him off, though a bit roughly.

  “You have the queen’s thanks,” she said and reached out her hand to Angst.

  He knelt and kissed her ring, though not the same way he had kissed her daughter’s hand moments ago. He felt very fortunate that he still hadn’t thrown up on anyone.

  Tori’s shoulders dropped and she nodded once at him, and he knew everything was all right. While Tori was considerably younger than Angst, her knowledge of all things royal were years beyond him.

  The queen nodded. “Please stand, Angst,” she spat his name. “Everyone leave but my Captain Guard.”

  They waited a minute in awkward silence until everyone was gone.

  “And now, Angst, you can thank me for your life. Do you know where you stand right now?” the queen asked. At his quizzical dumbfounded look, she continued, “This would be the Maiden’s Courtyard. You are one of the very few uninvited men to see this place and live.”

  “Mother, I told you, he ran in and saved me!” Victoria said.

  “Don’t lie to me girl, I’m no fool. Mr. Angst? I thought he was saving your life, not in here making formal introductions to the royal princess.” The queen continued to spit as she spoke. She looked down at the broken marble rose on the courtyard floor then looked over at Angst. “Fine work, Mr. Angst. As I’m sure you remember, non-commissioned magic is as illegal as it is dangerous.” She looked over at her daughter. “You, young lady, are in such trouble—”

 

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