The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  What did it mean? Something had bothered Flos. And it was why he had come here. Trey understood that without needing to be told. But what?

  “Why is he upset?”

  Teres whispered into Trey’s ear. He shrugged and looked around the room. No one looked upset. Just the mention of war had made other people come over. Some, most were civilians who’d never fought, even before Flos had slept. But a few at the table including the balding man had been soldiers. They spoke proudly of battles past, and of battles to come. There wasn’t a trace of fear or hesitation in their eyes.

  So what had Flos seen?

  It was a slow realization. It dawned on Trey as he watched Flos mingle and talk with the other servants and laborers, ordinary citizens, craftsmen and soldiers. It was in their wrinkled faces, the way they doted on Trey and Teres, asking where they had come from, where their family was—questions the twins had a hard time answering honestly let alone dishonestly.

  When Trey saw the youngest woman in the room, the young [Cook] in her mid-twenties, that he finally understood. He nudged Teres at once as he watched Flos laugh uproariously at a joke someone had told.

  “I get it, Teres.”

  “What?”

  Trey hesitated. How could he explain? He thought and whispered into Teres’ ear.

  “Think about the Great War, Teres. The Lost Generation—you know? Think of it like that. Only the opposite.”

  She looked blankly at him, and then her eyes widened. She took in the room, the aged faces. The lack of young ones.

  “Oh.”

  It wasn’t the faces Trey saw that had bothered Flos. It wasn’t the living. It was those who weren’t there. The children. The young people. There were scarcely any people Trey and Teres’ age, and he had seen…how many children over the month he’d been here? So few.

  It was a flash of insight. Flos, the King of Destruction would go to war. He would ride off, and his kingdom would rise with him. They would follow his banner into war again, as they always had.

  Only this time, no one would come back. Or rather, there would be no one to come back to. This time, there was no generation of young men and women to fight. It would be the fathers and mothers who took up arms, every living soul. There weren’t enough bodies left. This generation would be the last.

  This was Flos’ kingdom. Dying. They had come to life, but that life was fragile. Tenuous. They were what remained, but if Flos rode to war, there would be nothing left.

  Trey looked up and saw Flos looking at him. The King nodded, and turned back to the laughing men and women. When he spoke, it was quiet, but his voice quieted the loudest laughter.

  “What a terrible King.”

  He sat at the table as sound died around him. Trey saw every head within earshot turn. The balding man stared at Flos, joviality gone.

  “What was that, fellow?”

  “I said, what a terrible King he must be. To ask you all to fight and die again. What sort of King could ask that of his people?”

  No one spoke. Trey looked around at the suddenly hostile faces. The balding man pushed away his drink.

  “Are you new to Reim, stranger? Or did you never lay eyes on our King before now?”

  Flos met his gaze squarely, without passion.

  “I have seen him before. As he lay slumbering while his kingdom fell to ruins.”

  “Then you know nothing.”

  The bald man stared at Flos, face reddening. He pushed back his chair.

  “If you never met our King before, then you’ve no right to speak of it. He may have slept, but we kept faith with him. We waited, and when he calls, we will go to war and yes, die for him without fear. Because he is our King. Now, I’ve got to be getting back to work. And you had best leave.”

  He stood up, staring at Flos. The King stood as well, and Trey and Teres scrambled out of their seats. Everyone was staring at them. But Flos didn’t turn to leave. He stared curiously at the balding man, as if he were staring at something he’d never seen before.

  “Why would you follow a King who abandoned you? Who left his kingdom to rot? Why would you love such a worthless King?”

  The bald man stared at Flos across the table. His face went crimson, and then white with anger. His voice was barely contained.

  “Because he is our King. Because we love him. Because we would follow him to the ends of the earth. Because he is worthy of respect.”

  Flos shook his head.

  “He is not.”

  Silence. Trey saw the tendons bulge on the balding man’s neck. He saw his hand move in slow motion—and then the man threw a punch at Flos.

  It was so quick that Trey missed the blur of movement. He only saw the second part of the punch, as Flos leaned backwards, avoiding the blow.

  “Bastard!”

  The balding man leapt onto the table and started swinging at Flos. The King dodged backwards, letting each punch miss him by inches. But there was only so far he could back up. He blocked one punch towards his chest, took a step back, and ran into Trey. Flos took the second blow to the face which sent him sprawling and a kick to the stomach before people pulled the bald man off of him.

  “Get out. Take your uncle with you and don’t set foot in the palace again if you want to walk out.”

  The balding man spat at Flos as Trey and Teres helped him up. The other servants and workers held him back, but no one spoke up in defense of the twins.

  “Come on.”

  Trey and Teres pulled at Flos and he let them pull him out of the hallway. Once they were out, Trey and Teres set a fast walk, hurrying Flos down the corridor. Only when they were a good minute away did Flos speak.

  “Well, that was enlightening.”

  The twins stopped and stared at him. Servants behind them cursed and dodged out of the way as Flos rubbed at his cheek. It was already swelling up.

  “What? What do you mean, it was enlightening?”

  “Exactly what I said. I am glad to have spoken to that man. Although I wish you two would have backed up. I needn’t have taken that punch otherwise.”

  The mildly reproving tone and glance towards Trey nearly made him lose it altogether.

  “That wasn’t our fault! You started that fight! Why didn’t you punch back or—or stop him?”

  The King stared in confusion at Trey as if he were the one not making sense.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. What sort of King would attack his own subjects?”

  Trey’s mouth worked helplessly as Flos led them on again.

  “The…kind that doesn’t want to be hit?”

  “Hah! Good point.”

  Flos grinned at Trey as he rounded a corner, tapping the gem in the center of the broach twice. One second he was a wincing, commonplace laborer, the next, he was a King. Trey wouldn’t have noticed the slight swelling around his cheek at first glance. The sheer…Flos-ness of the man overwhelmed details at first glance.

  “My King! Good morning to you!”

  “Good day to you.”

  Flos waved at servants who exclaimed upon seeing the King appear out of the middle of nowhere. Trey saw the corridor full of people behind him do a sudden double-take and stare in amazement at Flos. They called out greetings too as Flos abandoned the right side of the corridor and strode down the center again. It was better that way; people got out of Flos’ way no matter where he walked.

  “I can’t believe you let him hit you. Why did you call yourself a bad King?”

  “Because I am. Because it is true. They may see me as a King worth following, but I will not give myself such laxity. I have failed them. That they would follow me is a mark of the worth of my subjects, not myself.”

  Trey stared at Teres. She shrugged. Then she frowned at Flos.

  “Why didn’t you tell them you were the King, then? Then they wouldn’t have kicked you. Or thrown beer on your head.”

  “Was that what it was? I thought it was water. But why would I reveal myself?”

  Flos felt absently
at his damp shoulders. Trey tried to explain, feeling all the while that he shouldn’t have to.

  “Well, isn’t that what you wanted to do? It’s like…it’s like all the stories.”

  “Stories?”

  The King halted in the middle of the corridor. He made Trey explain to him what he meant.

  “In stories of…King Arthur, I guess, he pretends to be a beggar, or an ordinary knight. He goes around doing good deeds and learning about folks, and then he reveals himself to them afterwards as the King.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Flos looked blank. Trey opened his mouth and paused.

  “Because…because then they’d know it was you?”

  The King shook his head, frowning.

  “If I were to do so, then that man would have realized he raised his hand against his King. I would not trouble him with that knowledge. And besides, it is best I keep such tricks secret.”

  “But you got punched.”

  “Yes, I did. But it was important. And I have a healing potion in my rooms. Follow me.”

  Flos refused to continue the conversation until they were in his quarters. There he took a bottle of clear blue liquid from his drawer and let Teres dab a tiny bit of it onto his cheek.

  “My stomach will be fine. But a King cannot be seen with a swollen cheek. That much is true.”

  “So why did we do all of this?”

  Trey complained as he eyed the potion bottle. He was wondering if he could use some on his sore shoulders. Or arms. Or legs. Or if he could take a bath in it. Flos sighed.

  “You saw what will come, did you not? Death. Death for my kingdom and my people. It is war I walk towards, and it will take their lives.”

  “Isn’t that how war always works?”

  “It is. But I had not thought of the cost of it until now. When I was young I did not know why my people followed me, even to their deaths. Now I know, and I am humbler for it. They showed me their feelings—”

  He winced as Teres touched his swollen cheek.

  “—Quite clearly. And it is good that I know it. Because I must be the King to fulfill such expectations.”

  He sat on his bed, head bowed as the healing potion worked its magic and his cheek returned to normal in seconds. At last, Flos raised his head and smiled tiredly at the twins.

  “Children, did you see the other part? When I became a King again, did you see it in the eyes of my people?”

  “See what?”

  Flos smiled bitterly. He stretched out one huge hand and stared at it as he spoke.

  “They do not see me. They stare right through me, at something else. An illusion far more complete than any Mars could create. At a dream.”

  Teres was the one who hesitantly replied.

  “You mean…at the King you used to be? Before you slept?”

  “Not even that.”

  Flos shook his head.

  “They see a King who never existed. Their ideal King, the ruler they made from shattered dreams as I lay slumbering. A King without fault, who will bring them salvation. I am not that King. I never was. I never will be. And yet, that is the King I must be.”

  He stood up. He took the bottle from Teres and gently put it back into the drawer of his dresser. When he turned, he stood taller than ever, or so Trey thought. And when he spoke, it was as a King, so that every word hung in the air.

  “My subjects dream. It is a King’s duty to turn that dream into reality. I am a King, and I must act like it. I cannot hide behind petty tasks anymore. It is time to be a King in truth.”

  He gestured towards the door, and this time the twins walked out with him behind them. Flos explained as they walked through the corridors, every head turning and bowing towards him.

  “In truth, Trey, Teres, I have not acted as I should. You have seen me supervising the repairs of a wall, or managing supplies, dealing with the affairs of my kingdom. And while those are true and pressing tasks, they are not mine. I have always left such things up to Orthenon, my [Steward].”

  “You did?”

  “Of course! He is far more competent than I at such matters. Whenever an issue of logistics popped up I believe I said…what was it now? Ah, yes. I would probably say ‘Orthenon, take care of it’ and leave it to him.”

  The twins gaped at him. Flos raised his eyebrows.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t even say ‘please’?”

  “Should I have? I am a King, and he is my [Steward]. My faith in him is complete.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Trey shook his head, an activity he had come to associate with Flos. He looked around, frowning, as he realized where they were going.

  “Are we headed to the map room?”

  “Yes!”

  Flos smiled as he threw open the doors to the room where strategy was planned and Orthenon occasionally tutored the twins. He surprised a woman organizing the carefully arranged maps. He nodded to her.

  “Will you fetch us a map so I might view it. I would like a…modern map of the surrounding area. Please.”

  He looked vaguely pleased with himself for adding ‘please’ at the end. The woman bowed and immediately found him the required map. Flos unrolled it and the twins stared at the inked lines on parchment.

  “Hm. This is only a few years old. But I see.”

  Flos sighed as he stared down at the countries and nations marked out on the map. Trey and Teres stared. Compared with the map Orthenon had shown them earlier, this map was completely different.

  Most of the nations to the west had been swallowed up by a new empire, the one ruled by the Emperor of Sands. Whereas, around Flos’ kingdom of Reim…

  The King traced his finger around the tiny, almost ludicrously small plot of land that was his kingdom. His hand moved up, and he went from nation to nation, staring at the tiny names listed there.

  There were so many small plots of land around his kingdom that it looked like a spiders’ web. Trey saw Flos’ finger point to a tiny sliver of land to the north, directly next to his capital city.

  “I remember these lands. I remember…ruling them. Now each one is ruled by a [Lord], or part of a larger kingdom.”

  He turned quickly away from the map. He nodded at the woman and she rolled it back up quickly.

  “That was all I needed to see. Come, Trey, Teres. There is something I must do with the two of you.”

  Trey didn’t get it. But he followed Teres and Flos out the door.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I wish to see for myself what Mars saw. I should have sparred with the two of you myself, rather than leave it all to her. If she does not know your worth, then how can she evaluate you properly?”

  “Wait, you don’t mean—”

  Trey balked the instant Flos led them back to the training grounds. He and Teres backed up to the doorway as men and women training with weapons turned and called out exuberantly to their King.

  “We’re tired. We can barely lift our arms!”

  “Good! That means you’ve been exercising. But I would like to see your lack of skill myself. Ah, Mars.”

  Flos turned and smiled in greetings as Mars hurried over. She blinked at the sweaty and irate Trey and Teres.

  “Are you going to have them train again, my lord? I gave them a workout earlier. They might not have the energy for it a second time.”

  “Just a few swings. It has been far too long since I wielded a sword in earnest myself.”

  Flos accepted two training swords and tossed them at Trey and Teres. Both twins failed to catch their swords and had to pick them up laboriously. Trey froze when he saw Flos had unsheathed the sword at his side.

  “Why do you have a real sword?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not enchanted.”

  “That’s not—”

  Trey bit his tongue as Flos swung the sword through the air. It was fast in his hands. He saw Mars staring with what looked like love at her King as he held the sword. Flos
beckoned at Trey and Teres as they held their blades uncertainly.

  “Come. I won’t injure you two. I simply want to see you strike.”

  Trey couldn’t remember how Mars had taught him to hold the sword. Reluctantly, he swung at Flos’ left as Teres viciously poked at his stomach. Flos’ sword blurred and he knocked Trey’s blade aside as he parried Teres.

  “Good! That was quite a determined thrust, Teres. Try again, Trey. Strike with all the force you have! Don’t worry about me.”

  Gritting his teeth, Trey did. He slashed down at Flos and felt like he’d hit a wall when the man blocked. The sword tumbled out of Trey’s hand from the impact. He scrambled to pick it up, hearing laughter as he did.

  It wasn’t fun being laughed at. Trey’s ears were red. He raised his arm, ready to try again, only to see Teres try to cut Flos’ head off. She looked as annoyed as he felt, but Flos was encouraging her.

  “Good! Spirit! You have a good thrust—you might have run me through there. Perhaps Orthenon would be a good teacher for her, don’t you think, Mars?”

  “If you want to give her over to him, I won’t object my lord. But he and I don’t see eye to eye on how to fight.”

  “Mm. True. Well, what about you, Trey? Perhaps we should let you train with Mars or I while Teres learns from Orthenon’s style.”

  Flos turned to Trey, casually blocking Teres as she tried to stab him in the back of his leg. He motioned her back and raised his sword.

  “Mars has taught you to strike, but how about blocking? Come, we’ll take turns.”

  He let Trey strike at him, his sword not budging an inch as he blocked. Then he showed Trey how to hold a shield in his other hand. Trey flinched as Flos raised his sword, but the King laughed and gently swung down.

  “Brace yourself as I strike. And don’t let your shield stray from your body. When you strike, don’t expose your arm or I might lop it off. Good! Keep your shield up as you stab—there.”

  Within minutes he had Trey gingerly keeping the shield in his left hand up as he struck and blocked Flos’ gentle taps to his shield. Soon, Flos had begun using more force. Trey felt heavy buffets threatening to knock his shield away. He braced himself, letting his legs cushion the blow as Flos struck downwards.

  “I think I’m ready to stop.”