The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

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The Wandering Inn_Volume 1 Page 468

by Pirateaba


  “I heard him shouting from the hill. He is your King. He claimed you, despite how you greeted him. And still you think he hasn’t returned?”

  He couldn’t properly reply to that. Venith tried to flex his hand.

  “I swore an oath.”

  “So you did. But you swore one to him first, if I recall.”

  “He abandoned—”

  Maresar silenced Venith with another look.

  “I didn’t come here to argue the same thing again. You are wounded, dear husband. You had better have a [Healer] see to your injuries.”

  He nodded grudgingly. Venith hesitated.

  “I am…glad you decided to come after all. Despite our differences.”

  “Hm.”

  She smiled at him. Venith reached out, and she brushed his hand away. He frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “I brought half of our retainers with us. Don’t worry; there are enough hands back at home to keep everything working. Until you decide to forgive your King, you’ll have to make do with that.”

  He heard her, but he didn’t want to understand.

  “Mares, what are you saying?”

  “He’s my King too, Venith. You might have thought about that when you decided to challenge him. I’ll wait by his side, but not for too long. Hurry up and make peace with the past already.”

  She rode past him. Venith reached out for her but missed. He called out as his wife rode past.

  “Mares!”

  She didn’t look back once. Venith stared at his wife’s back as she rode away from him. He stared at his King. He clenched his fist and turned away.

  —-

  Trey saw the procession of soldiers approaching with the woman archer at their head. Flos had seen them too. But he didn’t appear alarmed. He smiled and stopped the woman bandaging his hand.

  He walked towards the woman with open arms. Trey saw a woman, darker skinned, hair cropped short, a bow at her back. She was smiling and kicked her horse into a gallop. She leapt from the saddle and onto the ground before Flos.

  And then she slapped him. The crack of flesh meeting flesh turned every head in range. Trey felt like he could feel his own cheek stinging as Maresar lowered her hand. Flos blinked at her. Then the woman, Lady Maresar, flung her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

  “Ah, Maresar. I am overjoyed to see you haven’t changed.”

  Flos laughed as he hugged her. Maresar embraced him tightly and then let go. She was actually taller than he was, although not nearly as heavy.

  “That was for leaving us. And that was for coming back. I am delighted to see you, my lord.”

  “And I you. But your husband hasn’t joined us.”

  Maresar smiled a bit sadly.

  “He still has not forgiven you. But you are my King. He will come back in time.”

  “So I trust.”

  Flos looked at the ranks of soldiers that spread out behind their [Lady]. Each man or woman slowly knelt.

  “Those who would not march against you have come to fight for you.”

  “I am honored.”

  Flos turned to look at someone who came towards him, apart from the army.

  “Gazi.”

  Gazi the Omniscient smiled at her King. She had sheathed her sword, and was looking around at the people around her with all four eyes. Some had already recognized her, and the people calling her name sounded almost as exuberant as when they’d shouted for Flos.

  “Lady Gazi!”

  “Gazi the Omniscient has returned!”

  “My lord.”

  She stopped and bowed her head politely to Flos. He grinned at her.

  “I should have known you would spot me going, even without your main eye.”

  “Of course.”

  “I suppose I should only be relieved that Orthenon and Mars didn’t notice and drag me back as well.”

  Flos glanced towards the sky, where the sun was already rising. He grimaced.

  “Then again, I’m sure they will have noticed by now. I don’t suppose you told them?”

  “Orthenon would have found out soon enough. He’s coming with an army, by the way.”

  Flos’ shoulders sagged.

  “Really?”

  Gazi only smiled and pointed south in reply.

  —-

  Venith saw the army and the two riding at its head. He called an immediate halt to his men. They formed up, looking frightened.

  Orthenon rode at the head of an army of mounted warriors. There were only around four hundred of them, all wearing mismatched armor, but they vastly outnumbered Venith’s force.

  “Hold. They won’t attack.”

  Or so Venith prayed. He spurred his horse towards Orthenon, wincing with every step his mount took.

  “Lord Orthenon.”

  He called out as the man approached. Orthenon did not immediately reply. He was holding a spear, two metal hafts sticking out just below the shaft. He rode fast and hard at Venith, and the man slowed. Venith’s hand grabbed his shield, as much out of reflex as conscious thought.

  He wouldn’t—

  Orthenon raised his spear. Venith’s arm moved up and he raised his shield overhead as his soldiers cried out.

  The winged spear flashed down and crashed into Venith’s raised shield. The impact rang throughout Venith’s body and sent him tumbling off his saddle. Orthenon raised his spear and regarded the head, which had deformed from the impact. He tossed it to one side and Venith braced himself for the man to draw his sword. But Orthenon simply nodded calmly down at Venith as he lay on the ground.

  “Lord Venith.”

  He rode past the man as Venith struggled to his feet. Mars stared down at Venith and then rode past him without a word, sitting awkwardly on her mount. He was getting to his feet when she kicked him in the back.

  —-

  Afterwards, Trey found he didn’t know how they got back to Reim. There was only the procession of joyous people, singing and shouting Flos’ name. He was riding with Flos in front as the King spoke to Maresar and Gazi, rubbing his cheek. And then there was the meeting with Orthenon and Mars.

  The man rode towards Flos at a gallop, hundreds of mounted warriors following him. At a distance a huge scowl was visible on his face. It only grew larger as he got closer.

  When he was in earshot, Orthenon began shouting.

  “Do you have any idea how recklessly dangerous that was? I have [Scouts] and [Riders] searching in every direction still. We feared you were kidnapped. And you, Gazi! How could you not tell us where our King had gone? Do you have any idea what will happen after word of this spreads? Where are we supposed to shelter these people? Their homes are here. How are we supposed to—”

  “Orthenon.”

  Flos interrupted his [Steward] calmly. Orthenon stopped, breathing hard. Flos half-turned in his saddle. He waved his arms at the cheering villagers, Maresar’s soldiers, and then expanded that wave to take in the army accompanying Orthenon. Flos nodded at it all.

  “Take care of it.”

  He paused, and then looked at Orthenon again.

  “Please.”

  He passed by the man and rode on. Trey could hear him calling out.

  “Mars! Look who has decided to join us! Did you meet Venith on the road?”

  He didn’t hear Mars’ shouted reply. Trey rode past Orthenon and saw the man staring at the mess behind Flos. And then…it was just for a second, but Trey could have sworn he saw Orthenon smile.

  —-

  And at midday, when he was about to fall asleep, Trey found Flos. The King was sitting in his room, cheek no longer red, hand healed. He didn’t look as tired as Trey, but he was a bit less energetic in greeting the boy.

  “Trey. Is there no Teres today?”

  “No si—your ma—Flos. She’s asleep.”

  “A wise decision. I would sleep, but Orthenon insists on keeping me awake.”

  Flos glanced regretfully towards his bed. He shook his head and looked at Trey.


  “But you have no [Steward]. Why are you awake?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Trey didn’t know why he was bothering Flos, for all the King clearly enjoyed it. He hesitated.

  “Is—is that Venith going to come back and try to kill you again?”

  Flos raised his eyebrows, looking mildly surprised.

  “Him? I doubt it. As Orthenon told me countless times, it was foolish to leave my city without an escort. Venith has not the men to challenge me if I go forth with proper protection. More to the point, Lady Maresar is now with me, and I doubt he would try to take up arms against his wife.”

  “But he did try to kill you.”

  “Yes. I suppose he did.”

  Flos stared at his hand, now free of blood. He smiled as he flexed it.

  “But that is the thing about Venith. He has tried to kill me once before, did you know? When we first met. Yet he did it so poorly then, and so poorly now, I wonder if that was ever his intention.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He could have attacked with his soldiers. Or shot me from afar. Or simply alerted any number of my enemies that I was in Manimar alone and defenseless. I can think of a few enemies – the Emperor of Sands for one – who might use a teleportation spell to send an assassin after me without a second thought. But he did not. He challenged me to a duel.”

  “To test you?”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps because he had to be the one who struck me. I confess that I do not know. But I am glad to have heard his fury.”

  “Even though he hit you?”

  “I deserve it, don’t you agree? My face will not be marred by a single blow, although a few of Lady Maresar’s slaps might do the trick.”

  Flos laughed. He stared pensively at the wall, his eyes going down to a blank spot on his dresser. Trey saw there was nothing there as well. No head. He wondered if Flos had buried it yet.

  The King sighed.

  “It is an odd thing, Trey. I went to Manimar unsure whether I would be forgiven for my failure. And yet now all I can dwell on is a single vassal of mine.”

  He spread his hands as he sat on his bed, motioning Trey to join him. Trey did, almost too afraid to sit properly. Flos loomed above him, as big as the room itself. But tired. He only looked tired in here, nowhere else. And only when Trey and Teres could see him.

  “I wronged him, Trey. I committed the gravest sin a [King] could make. He is right to be furious. If he never forgave me I could not speak a word of protest and be justified in it. And yet, I would give much to have him back.”

  Trey cleared his throat awkwardly.

  “I understand that.”

  “You do? Good. Today was a victory, if there were winners or losers to be counted. But it is not the same, Trey. Not the same.”

  “As what?”

  Flos sighed.

  “As before. Perhaps it was simply that I was young and did not see the cost in everything I did back then. But today my triumph is bittersweet.”

  “I get that, too.”

  “Really now? What is so lacking for you, Trey?”

  “I—well, it’s nothing.”

  Trey wished he hadn’t opened his mouth. But now Flos was staring at him, and Trey unwillingly continued.

  “It’s just…today, well, yesterday I mean, Teres did a lot of good things. She yelled at you, threw that rock at Venith’s son when he tried to kill you—”

  “Ah yes. She was brave.”

  “Yeah.”

  Trey nodded. He felt proud of his sister. But…

  “But I didn’t do much, really.”

  “Ah. Are you jealous of your sister?”

  “No! Maybe. I’m not jealous. I just wish I could have done something useful too. But it’s always like this. Teres is always the braver one. She always does stuff first. I…don’t.”

  He didn’t know why he was confiding in a King of all people. But there was something in the way Flos looked at him that told Trey he did understand.

  “You know Trey, when I heard my subjects speaking in the dining hall, I was surprised to hear they considered both you and Teres worthless.”

  It took Trey a minute to remember. It felt like an age ago.

  “Well, we are, aren’t we?”

  “Not so. You come from another world. From another world.”

  “But we don’t know much. We don’t know how to make guns or how electricity is made or…anything.”

  “And yet, it is the two of you who woke me from my slumber. Where all my vassals and time itself could not do so. What is that, if not worth?”

  Flos placed a gentle hand on Trey’s shoulder. The young man looked up at him, and saw a smile.

  “Shall I tell you something interesting, Trey? Something not even Gazi knows?”

  “What?”

  “When I was a young man, no one thought I would become anything special either. I was a low-level [Prince] of a tiny kingdom. My father had little time for me, and my subjects only thought of me as royalty, not someone to inspire them. Only my mother had faith I would be successful.”

  “Really?”

  “Truthfully, she was disappointed when I took up the sword. She always had hopes I would pursue other paths. Like poetry.”

  “Poetry?”

  “Oh yes. She thought I was a wonderful poet, despite my only ability being a small gift at rhyming. Let me see.”

  Flos thought for a moment, and then spoke softly.

  “One last time let the forges roar.

  Forevermore, forevermore.

  Let hammers sing and bellows cry

  And let voices split the very sky.

  The King is awoke, the land awake

  Now let us all an ending make.

  So one last time the forges roar

  And once all is over, nevermore.”

  Trey stared at him. Flos shrugged.

  “It’s not good. But I could make such simple poems for my mother at will. It made her smile. The trouble is, such a talent is largely useless. I am a King who leads his people. What use is rhyming and pretty words as a talent? I failed my people. Would that I had a stronger spirit, they would have been better served. But now here I stand with sword in hand, the mark of my folly upon this land…”

  He broke off, grimaced.

  “You see? It is a terrible thing. And it comes upon me more the longer I think of it.”

  Trey grinned and ducked his head. Flos smiled, and then stared pensively back at the wall.

  “You may not see your worth, Trey. But I promise you, it is there. In you and Teres both. You two are not the same; it is folly to compare your actions, even for twins.”

  “But we’re supposed to serve you. Shouldn’t we be…good enough?”

  Flos laughed. It was a genuine sound, honest and pure.

  “You woke me from my slumber, Trey. There is nothing more worthy in the world than that. And as for the rest…if you doubt yourself, keep following my back. Watch me, Trey. Come with me as I learn to be King again. And one day, you will be worthy of standing by my side.”

  He clapped a hand on Trey’s shoulder and rose.

  “Today was a start. I failed again, but I also succeeded. One village has come back to me. One small village, but it is part of me, Trey. This kingdom is my heart. Its people are my blood. Now it beats faster. Faster. Not with rage or sorrow, but excitement at last. I had awoken, but I did not remember what it was to be King. Now I am remembering.”

  He stood, and strode towards the window. Trey followed him. Flos stared out across the empty landscape and smiled. Below him a city moved with people. It was still largely in ruins, still far emptier than it should be, but there was life down there. Growing.

  “It is time to do what I should have done from the beginning. It is time to act, to lead them. Not as a man or memory. But as a [King].”

  Flos smiled. He turned to Trey.

  “Now, I believe I shall take a nap. If Orthenon comes looking for me, I’ll throw hi
m out a window.”

  And he grinned at Trey, looking like a young man wearing an adult’s face. And Trey looked into Flos’ eyes and laughed.

  4.03 K

  Two days after Flos returned to his city with an entire village at his back, Trey woke up at the crack of dawn. It was part of his new routine.

  He woke up when Teres took his pillow away. That was a surefire method to waking Trey up. He opened his eyes grudgingly and saw she was already dressed and staring at a wall.

  That was normal. Trey changed out of his clothes as Teres stood in place. They were used to giving each other privacy, but he suspected Teres wouldn’t have looked around in any case. Sure enough, when he stumbled over to her, her eyes were closed and she was swaying in place.

  “Teres.”

  “Go away.”

  “Gotta—”

  “Nuh.”

  “Yeah.”

  He pushed her towards the door. Teres grudgingly moved rather than fall over.

  This was their new day. And it was, to quote Teres, complete bollocks. Trey preferred outrageously bollocks, but the feeling was the same.

  They had to get up at dawn, without eating brekkie, and head over to the training grounds.

  People were already up and about at this time of day. But it did not make the twins any happier to see people walking about briskly, looking like fresh daisies. Trey would have loved to sleep in until at least seven or eight—Teres would prefer ten. But here they were.

  “You’re late.”

  For once, Orthenon did not receive the shy smile from Teres. She glared at him, which did not faze the steward in the slightest. He beckoned to Teres with a wooden sword in hand and she stomped off after him.

  “Trey! Excellent! Good to see you up!”

  The booming voice reminded Trey of the time he and Teres had snuck some of their father’s alcohol into their room and tried it. The morning after had felt something like this. He winced and turned to bow towards Flos as the king strode towards him.

  “Good morning.”

  “I feel so as well. Come, Mars and I have been sparring lightly.”

  The King threw an arm around Trey’s shoulders and half-dragged the young man towards Mars. As always Trey fought to keep his eyes on her face. There was always something eye-catching about Mars, but he was beginning to suspect at least part of the attraction he felt towards her was magical. It made sense, right? Mars wasn’t known as the Illusionist for no reason.

 

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