The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “And a king without a sword is nothing.”

  Flos took a step back. Trey stared around in horror at the ring of watching villagers. They were no longer cheering.

  “You are no match for me without a sword.”

  Venith strode forwards, and this time Flos was in full retreat. The King cast aside the hilt of his sword.

  “My King!”

  Someone shouted. Trey saw a man waving a sword in his hands, trying to throw it to Flos. But the King ignored the blade as Venith’s soldiers pulled the man back into the crowd.

  “What now, King of Destruction?”

  There was mockery in Venith’s tone, but it was bitter. And he was not smiling. He looked as if he was in pain as he slowly backed Flos towards where Trey and Teres stood. Flos danced out of range, far quicker than any man his size should have moved.

  “Your vassals will not return. Your kingdom is in ruins. Your lands are gone. You have nothing left. You are no King! You have no army, no allies, no sword—”

  “Silence.”

  Venith’s eyes widened. He raised his shield and a fist crashed into it. Trey heard the dull thump. Venith stumbled back. He raised his sword and a foot kicked him in his armored chest. He fell backwards, crashing onto the ground.

  Flos stood over him. He shook his right hand, and raised his voice as he pointed down at Venith.

  “Fool! Have you learned nothing of Kings?”

  Everyone stared at him as Venith struggled to get up. Flos raised his right fist into the air; Trey saw the skin along his knuckles had split from the impact. It was bleeding.

  “A King is more than just a sword! He is more than a crown, more than an army or a kingdom. Deny it if you will, Venith. But I am and always will be your [King]. Nothing will change that!”

  Venith got to his feet, coughing. He swung at Flos with his sword, slower. Flos grabbed his gauntleted arm.

  “A King cannot be beaten by any common warrior!”

  He caught Venith’s shield as it flew towards his face. Flos held Venith’s arms apart as the man struggled to free himself. Then Flos’ head drew back.

  Venith was wearing a steel helmet. Flos was not. The King’s head came down and struck Venith on the helmeted forehead so hard Trey winced. Venith stumbled back. Flos took three steps back and shook his head like a dog. But he was the first one to step forwards.

  “A King is always a King. And I am your King!”

  The [Lord] groggily raised his sword. He blinked and saw Flos striding towards him. Venith tried to raise his shield, but it was too late.

  Flos’ right fist met the front of Venith’s helm. The impact sent the man’s head snapping back. Trey saw Venith stagger. He took a step back and then slowly collapsed back onto the ground.

  Blood dripped from Flos’ right hand. The metal faceguard on Venith’s helm was stained red with blood, but not from the man. It had cut deep into Flos’ hand. But the King didn’t appear to notice. He looked down at the fallen [Lord].

  “I will always be your King, Venith.”

  The man made no reply. He might have been unconscious. The King turned away. He bent down and picked up Venith’s sword out of the dirt.

  Now everyone was silent. Trey stared at Flos as the King walked back to Venith. The rush of excitement and fear in his veins had turned completely to horror. What would happen now?

  There was only one thing Trey could think of. Flos stared down sadly at Venith. He raised the sword in his hands. Trey’s mouth was dry with fear.

  “No!”

  Someone shouted in the circle of onlookers. Trey saw a young man without a helmet—the same one who’d attacked Flos with the spear.

  Calac. He threw himself in front of his father, arms spread wide.

  “Have mercy, sire!”

  Other people rushed to hold him back. Not just villagers—soldiers as well. Flos watched them pull Calac away, and then turned his head. Trey and Teres were standing by his side, staring at the sword in his hands. Their faces were pale.

  “Are you going to—”

  Flos didn’t immediately reply. He looked back at Calac. Trey saw the young man’s face, darker than his father’s, but with the same features. Flos stared too.

  “I wished to see his son’s face, you know. But I was too far from home.”

  He turned back to Venith. Then Flos’ head turned. He frowned and then threw a hand out. Trey felt a palm knock him off his feet. He heard Teres cry out in shock, and then a thunk.

  Trey sat up and saw the arrow. It had passed through the air where Flos’ arm had been. If Flos hadn’t turned, and if he hadn’t knocked Trey out of the way, it would have struck Trey’s leg.

  “Who—what was that?”

  Teres was shouting. Most of the people around Flos hadn’t heard or seen the arrow, focused as they were on Calac, who was struggling and shouting with the people who held him. But Flos’s head turned. He looked east, towards the brighter sky.

  “His wife.”

  Someone was standing on a hilltop to the east. It was a thousand feet in the distance, yet Trey could see the figure clearly. She was riding a horse. Her hair was short, but the figure was unmistakably a woman.

  And she was holding a bow. A woman on a horse put another arrow to the huge bow she carried. She was a distant speck, but when she loosed the second arrow it sped towards Flos’ chest.

  He cut the second arrow out of the air. Flos stepped sideways casually and Trey heard the ripping sound of cut air before the shaft splintered into two parts. One spun past Trey’s face and something stung his cheek.

  “Lady Maresar disapproves of our duel.”

  “Is she going to shoot us?”

  “No, I think.”

  Teres stared at the figure in the distance. She was raising another arrow to her bow. But Flos turned away. He didn’t appear concerned.

  “What are you doing? She’s going to shoot you!”

  “I see her. But I see someone else as well. She is always about. I should have known she would have noticed me.”

  “Who?”

  Trey stared at the hill. The woman named Maresar was sitting on her horse. But there was someone else? Then he saw her, blending in at the bottom of the hill. If she hadn’t moved, he would never have seen her. But that was why she wore that armor. It matched her skin, and it was the color of dirt. Now the half-Gazer strode up the hill, sword in hand. Flos smiled.

  “Gazi.”

  —-

  The mounted archer lowered her bow when she saw Gazi’s head appear over the hilltop. She didn’t appear surprised to see her. And neither did she put away the arrow.

  Gazi smiled widely, showing the woman her sharp teeth. She had her two-handed blade in her left hand, and all four of her eyes were fixed on the woman’s face.

  “Lady Maresar.”

  “Gazi. I should have known you were about.”

  “I follow my King. Just as you seem to follow your husband.”

  Maresar spoke shortly, with a slight lisp.

  “He is a fool. But he will not die so long as I live.”

  “And neither will you harm my King.”

  Gazi spread her hands. Maresar nodded.

  “So. We are at an impasse. I have my soldiers camped below this ridge.”

  “I know.”

  “Your big eye isn’t open. I could shoot you if I had to.”

  “You won’t.”

  Maresar turned her head. She was staring at Flos as he stood over Venith.

  “And why is that?”

  Gazi turned her head to stare at her King.

  “My lord did not come here to kill. I know him. Your husband won’t die today.”

  Lady Maresar stared at Gazi. For a second her hand tightened on her arrow, and Gazi’s hand tightened on her greatsword. Then Maresar smiled and lowered her bow.

  “Very well. If you are wrong I will kill you first.”

  Gazi just grinned in reply.

  —-

  Trey stood with
Teres, watching. That was what he seemed to do. Watch. Yet he was a part of this scene as well. He stood next to the King of Destruction, after all. He stood next to the King of Reim as, sword in hand he stood over his former vassal.

  Venith Crusand. The man had regained consciousness. He stared bitterly up at Flos.

  “Finish it this time. Or I swear I will come back for your head again.”

  Flos smiled.

  “After all this time, you haven’t changed Venith. I told you once. I like you. You fought by my side for countless years. Shed blood in my name. I could never kill you.”

  “But I could kill you. I swore an oath.”

  Venith struggled to his feet, but fell back. He coughed and stared with hatred at Flos. Real, deep hatred. Trey could see that plainly, but he also saw how Venith’s eyes hadn’t left Flos’ face. They searched every inch of the King’s expression, as if looking for something.

  “You betrayed us. You left us.”

  Flos’ head bowed. He made no reply. Venith raised his voice. He shouted as the villagers fell silent, and his soldiers watched.

  “You abandoned your kingdom! A King! Every army in the world came after us, cutting us down. I swore an oath to save my people, to protect them since you would not! I am bound to kill you or die trying.”

  “A powerful oath.”

  Flos nodded slowly. Venith bared his teeth.

  “I have never broken my vows. You know that.”

  “I do.”

  “So.”

  Venith struggled to lift a hand. He pointed to the blade in Flos’ hand.

  “End it. Or we shall fight again. Again and again, until I am dead.”

  Trey heard a choked sound from Calac. He was held tightly by two of Venith’s soldiers. Flos nodded.

  “Your honor. Your vows. For your people you took them, and I know you are bound to fulfill them. However, I would say one thing to you Venith Crusand.”

  He raised the sword in his hands. Venith narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth silently. Flos stared at Venith, and then tossed the sword at his feet.

  “I do not care.”

  Venith stared. Trey stared. Teres stared. The villagers and soldiers were statues. But Flos just smiled. And laughed. And then he shouted so everyone could hear.

  “I am no petty tyrant, no fearful monarch! I am Flos, King of Destruction! My heart is large enough to suffer a thousand insults, but too small to accept the loss of one friend. I care not that you renounced your oath of service, Venith. I care not that you swore a vow against me. Join me, and we will fight together as before.”

  He held a hand out to Venith. The man stared up at him, open-mouthed. Then he snarled and swiped at Flos’ hand.

  “You bastard. You trampled over our dreams, abandoned us when we needed you most! And you dare to come back ten years later, as if nothing has changed?”

  “Yes.”

  The man’s voice broke as he screamed at Flos, at his King.

  “How dare you! How dare you—you trampled over us once. And now you come back as if nothing happened, spouting your same lies? How can you say the same thing again? You are a heartless tyrant, a fool!”

  “That is what it means to be a King.”

  Venith fell silent. Flos stared down at him.

  “You are right. I cannot take back the past. I cannot undo my mistakes or erase my sins. And they are the gravest of this world. There is no one less deserving of a crown than I. And yet, I am your King. Your King, Venith. Just as you are my vassal.”

  Flos moved slowly. He turned to face the crowd of people, the soldiers, the villagers, the twins. But when he spoke, it was only towards Venith.

  “I care nothing for your oath. I care not that you raised your sword against me. I only care for you, Venith. I crave your company, more deeply than a lover, more urgently than a babe. I need you, Venith Crusland. Follow my back once more. Be my sword and shield and run with me one more time. One last time. We still have not reached the ends of the earth. But this time we shall.”

  Venith stared up at Flos silently, eyes filled with an emotion Trey could not name. The King gazed down at him.

  “My kingdom fell to dust because I was not ready before. But this time my dream is rekindled. And it is larger. This time it reaches beyond one continent. It encompasses the world. That is how far we will go. To the edge of the world and beyond. To the furthest nation, to the highest peak. Once, a young boy dreamed of making the world a better place. Now a grown man dreams of the same. The fire burns again in my chest, Venith. I see in my heart lands I have never laid eyes on, of oceans I have never crossed. And I know my enemies wait for me there, uncountable, and allies too. Waiting for the moment I dare to step forwards.”

  He held his hand out, blood dripping between his fingers.

  “The world waits for me. But I cannot face it alone. So I ask you once more. Renounce your oath. Take my hand or go. But know that you will always be mine. My sworn companion. My friend.”

  All was hushed. Venith stared down at Flos’ bloodied hand. He stared at his King. And reached out.

  —-

  “My King.”

  Venith shook his King, grasped his hand. He stared into empty eyes, a vacant expression. Flos stared back, but there was nothing of him in there.

  “It is over, Venith.”

  “No!”

  The man turned and glared at the one who had spoken. Gazi. She was standing next to the throne, eyes downcast, more defeated than he had ever known her. Standing to her right, a soldier, one of the Rustängmarder who would ferry orders to the rest of the company, stood at attention. He and Venith had heard the words from Flos’ mouth, but Venith couldn’t accept it.

  “It’s not over!”

  “It is. It is all over. I am finished.”

  The words came slowly and at a distance from Flos’ mouth. He did not look at Venith. He sat slumped in the small chair, staring at the ground. But Venith refused to hear.

  “We can still fight! Give me a command and I will lead your armies myself!”

  “It’s not about armies.”

  Flos didn’t raise his head. He stared down at his hands.

  “She is dead, Venith. Queravia is dead. So is Tottenval.”

  “What?”

  Something cold lurched in Venith. He had known. But—

  “We found his body today.”

  Gazi spoke quietly. There were tears in her eyes. Venith couldn’t speak for a few moments. He felt his eyes sting, but he couldn’t stop.

  “Even so. Even so—we have to continue. We owe it to them! You can’t just—”

  His voice broke. It couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t all be over. The entire kingdom, gone. Not like this. Not—

  “It is over, Venith. I am done. The King of Destruction is no more.”

  “What about your people? What about your retainers, those who have sworn themselves to you?”

  “I cannot be their King.”

  Venith lost control. He struck Flos with all his might. The King’s head snapped back, but he didn’t look at Venith. He didn’t react to the blow. He just sat, staring ahead. Silent. That was worse of all.

  It was more than Venith could stomach, more than he could bear to see. He would have struck his King once more, but someone caught his hand.

  “Don’t do that again.”

  Gazi stared at Venith, her grip a vice on his arm. Venith knew he could break her grip, but he saw the look in the half-Gazer’s eyes. And the Rustängmarder soldier was staring at him. They tolerated no treason in their ranks. Another blow and it might be Venith’s corpse lying on the ground.

  After a moment, Gazi let go of Venith and he lowered his hand. He stared at his King. A shell. Just that. There was nothing left of his King here, just his appearance. Venith turned away.

  “I will never accept it. I will not. I will wait! Until the day you come to your senses.”

  Flos made no reply as Venith strode out of the room, slamming the door behind
him. And he waited. He waited until it was too late to go back.

  —-

  Venith took Flos’ hand. The King smiled. He pulled Venith up. The [Lord] stared at his King. Then he smiled.

  And struck Flos in the face.

  Trey cried out in shock. The King’s head reeled back. He took a step as the people around him surged forwards, howling in fury. But Flos’ hand held them back like a real thing.

  “I have not forgotten the day you turned your back on me. My answer is no.”

  Flos nodded slowly. The King stared at Venith, not angrily, but with deep disappointment.

  “Very well. Go. But know this, Venith Crusand. For ten years you protected my subjects. You guarded them against bandits and monsters alike and kept them fed. You built them a wall, and took care of my people. For that I owe you a debt beyond measuring. And yet.”

  He looked Venith in the eye.

  “And yet, it was not enough. You gave them food, shelter, pride in honest work. But you could not give them hope. Your dream is still not grand enough. And that is why they will always be mine.”

  He turned away, and Venith stumbled, as if his strings were cut. In a moment his son and another soldier were by his side. They propped Venith up. He stared at Flos and then turned without another word.

  Flos turned away as well. He walked slowly back towards Trey and Teres. He paused to look at them and then reached out.

  “I am tired, you two.”

  That was all he said. Then he walked back into the village, head bowed.

  —-

  Venith rode away from Manimar, feeling every inch of his body hurt. He could barely sit in his saddle, but he sat with back straight when he saw who was waiting ahead of him.

  “Mares.”

  His wife, [Lady] Maresar smiled and rode to meet Venith. She eyed her husband’s face, and then looked at her son. She frowned at him, which made Calac flinch. Then she looked at Venith and raised an eyebrow.

  “Are you feeling better now? That’s twice you’ve struck your own King.”

  “He is no longer my King.”

  Venith gritted his teeth. His hands were still numb, and he couldn’t feel a distinct part of his face. Maresar only shook her head.