“The Sect works at it day and night, Your Majesty. We come closer by the day,” Viceroy Leodor said. He stood tall, wearing cream-colored robes trimmed with purple. He had a beak of a nose, bright, close-set eyes, and a sunken chin. He spoke in a respectful but forced manner. “But this disease is no ordinary disease. It is a curse. My healers and potion makers work endlessly to resolve the matter.”
Queen Clarann sat down on the wall and groaned. She still had a spark in her eyes and strength in her voice. “Please, no more of those disgusting concoctions. I’d rather die now than swallow another.” She stuck her tongue out. “Blecht.”
“Don’t say that, Clarann. I would not want to go on another day without you.” King Hector spoke in a soft and soothing tone. “You are my wife. You are my life.”
She touched his cheek with her trembling hand. “Hector, you have been good to me, but don’t be so dramatic. It unsettles my stomach. You will always be more husband than king to me. That is more than any wife can ask for. But the citizens need more king than husband. I am holding you back. If my time comes, it comes.”
“That is nonsense. You are far from full of years, unlike me. I will find a cure for you,” Hector said.
“Don’t be silly. Look at me. I look like I’m a thousand years old. I don’t want to live my last days looking like a mummy.” She brushed a withered hand across his check. “I’m sorry, Hector. I know this isn’t fair to you. You never could have imagined this when you took such a younger bride. Now, I’m haggard and ugly.”
“That is outrageous. You are as beautiful as ever.”
She chuckled drily and rolled her eyes at him.
“Leodor!” Hector shouted. “This madness has gone on long enough. Certainly, you have some inkling that will end this disease. This is Kingsland. Anything is possible, or I am not the king!”
“Your Majesty,” Viceroy Leodor said, “the only possibility is the egg of the fenix. Its yolk is said to cure anything. But as you well know, all of our expeditions to retrieve it have failed. And no one has sighted a fenix in decades. There are myths and legends, but that is all that we have.”
The king stood. “No, they are not. My father saw one himself. They live if he says they lived.” He clenched his fist. “If there is an egg to be fetched, we will have it.”
“Father,” Lewis said, “we have lost over five hundred men and women on these expeditions. The territories take them before they even arrive. It is a fruitless quest. Certainly, there is another way.”
“What?” Queen Clarann asked. She started into a fit of coughing.
Hector, Leodor, and Lewis converged on her with outstretched hands.
“Oh, back away,” she said, with steely resolve. “Hector, what news is this. You are sending men and women to their deaths, chasing after a silly legend for me.” She grabbed Hector’s hands in hers. “Hector, I know you love me, but I won’t have you sacrificing lives of our loyal people on my account. That is foolishness.”
King Hector stroked her cheek. “My dearest, you are the queen. The people are your humble servants. It is their duty. A kingdom must have a king and a queen. And selfishly, I need you.”
“You’ll have another queen. After all, there was one before me. I’m sure there will be one after. It’s customary,” she said.
“She didn’t hold a candle to you. You know that.” Hector kissed her hands.
Abraham noticed Lewis glowering at his father.
“Her sudden death was a tragic accident,” Hector continued. “But I think it was destined to bring you and I together.”
“Oh, don’t say that, Hector. I feel so guilty. That’s probably why I have this awful curse. It’s payment to the Elders.” She coughed. “Promise me you won’t send any more to their deaths.”
King Hector stiffened. “As you—”
“I’ll do it!” Abraham blurted.
“Shut up, dog!” Lewis stormed over and kicked him in the gut.
41
Abraham fell on all fours. With a groan, he fought his way back to his knees.
Lewis kicked him in the ribs. “Stay down, you walking, breathing, and sniveling wretch.”
As tough as Abraham was, a kick in the ribs and gut still hurt like hell. On hands and knees, he spat out more words. “I can retrieve the egg. Please, one chance for redempt—oof!”
Lewis laid into him once more.
Squinting her eyes in Abraham’s direction, the queen said, “Who is this man? And quit kicking him, Lewis.”
“He is no one, my dear,” the king said. “It’s some finished business that I’d concluded when you arrived. Guardians, remove him immediately.”
“Give me one chance, King Hector. Let me redeem myself. I beg you.”
While listening to the conversation, Abraham had had a two-part inspiration. It was one part fear and one part This has to be a part of a module or something. If Titanuus was a fictional world wrapped up in his imagination, then maybe a scenario needed to be played out. Perhaps saving the Queen would lead him back home. He didn’t know, but he knew that he had to act, or he would die in the king’s gallows. The Guardians hooked their arms under his arms and began dragging him away.
“I can do it,” he said. “I will do it. I swear it!”
The queen narrowed her eyes at Abraham. “Hector, don’t I know this man?”
Hector opened his mouth.
She cut him off excitedly and said, “Ruger. Is that you?”
“Yes, Queen Clarann! Your devoted servant.”
“Guardians, let him go,” she said. “What is the meaning of this, Hector? I thought Ruger was dead.” She eyed him. “Hector? Explain.”
“I’d rather not, but I will,” the King replied. “You know that Ruger deserted the Guardians and we lost sixty-five men. Several years ago, he resurfaced. I had him arrested.” He eyed Abraham. “He deserved nothing less than execution, but I showed mercy. I gave him a choice: death or be branded as the King’s Henchman.”
Queen Clarann’s mouth hung open. “Being a Henchman is a death sentence. Why didn’t you tell me that a new sword had been branded?”
“There are more important matters. Besides, Ruger has failed his missions. I’m executing his death sentence tomorrow.”
Lewis smiled. “An excellent decision, Father.”
Queen Clarann stood up and teetered over to Ruger, her eyes shining like blue suns. She put a hand on his chin and lifted his head. She looked him over. “I was heartbroken when you deserted. But I am glad to see that you live. You were a true and faithful servant.” She looked back at King Hector. “Is he still the best sword? If so, you’d have him killed?”
“Pfft, he’s not the best sword, Mother,” Lewis said. “I am.”
“Oh, please. You are good, but your sister Clarice is better than you,” she said.
Like a whiny snot, Lewis said, “She is not.”
Queen Clarann held Abraham’s face with both hands. With her thumbs underneath his eyes, she stared at him with eyes that looked as if they could see into his soul. “Give him one more chance. Grant him the expedition.”
“Dearest, please, leave this business to us,” Hector said. “There is much that you don’t know. I will send out better men than him.”
Lewis strutted forward, smiling with dignity. “Yes, Mother. I will go.”
“No,” she said. “You will send Ruger.”
“One lone man will not be enough. It is an arduous journey. He will only desert us again,” Viceroy Leodor said. He licked the sweat from his pale lips. “And men like him are not equipped for such an adventure. They are fighters. They need a group of skilled workers capable of finding the fenix and knowing how to handle it as well. I wouldn’t venture it without the skills of priests and mages. It’s a full-fledged campaign.”
“I’ll figure it out, Your Highness,” Abraham said. “I have many Henchmen.”
“Just do your best. Serve the kingdom, Ruger. Come home again.”
She touched his
cheek and looked right into his soul, and a spark that came straight from her fingertips went through Abraham’s heart.
“Redeem yourself,” she whispered softly in his ear. “Be brave, old friend.”
The king rushed over to her side and took her from Abraham. “She’s exhausted. Viceroy Leodor, take her back to her quarters.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m coming along shortly, dear. Rest well.”
“I’m tired of resting. I want to do something else besides sleep,” she said.
Viceroy Leodor led her away. “I’ll have the servants draw you a revitalizing bath.”
Abraham wasn’t certain where he stood. The queen might have a sharp mind, but she seemed so fragile. He feared that her words didn’t have any weight. He waited as the king chewed his bottom lip while watching her go. He could tell by the worry in the man’s voice and the look in his eyes that he truly loved her.
With a sigh, the King turned and faced him. “It looks like you have another chance—a futile one at best, but a chance.”
“Father, this is outrageous,” Lewis whined. “There is no fenix. It’s a fool’s quest. By tomorrow, Mother will forget about it. Put this traitor in the guillotine and get it over with.”
“One day, when you have a wife that you love, you’ll do anything for her. If she wants Ruger to seek out the egg, then so be it.”
“Mother doesn’t care about the egg, Father. She likes him like a loyal old hound”—Lewis sneered at Ruger—“and is granting him undeserved freedom. That is all. She is feeble and overly merciful. You know what Leodor says. He’s done all that he can. There is no hope for her. She is strong. She understands that.”
Shaking his fist, Hector said, “I need hope. This mission will give it to me. Ruger, if you pull off this miracle, your death sentence will be waived. And I will show you my gratitude.”
Lewis stiffened. “Father, you can’t trust him. He’s a washed-up swordsman. His men are thugs. Let me and my men handle this. It might be lunacy, but for Mother, it would be an honor. We are the best hope that you have.”
Hector shook his head. “You are not seasoned in the ways of the world beyond the border, son. I appreciate your offer, but no. You are the Captain of the King’s Guardians. I need you here. Rise, Ruger.”
Abraham did so.
“These are dire times. Bring that egg back to me. I know it exists.”
“I am your Henchman. I’ll do whatever it takes.” He looked the king in the eye. “Death before failure.”
Lewis laughed. “I’m certain that you’ll soon experience both of them soon enough.”
42
Below the House of Steel were dungeons. Abraham was kept in a cell. He was the only one there. Made from blocks of stone and bars of steel, the drab place was clean aside from the cobwebs in the corners. Not even a guard was posted, or rats crawling along the floor. In his cell was a cot, a small pillow, and a bucket. He sat on the cot, lay down, and weighed his options. His situation was getting more uncomfortable and tenser. Since he’d arrived, he escaped one dire situation only to fall into another. The king meant business, but Abraham liked him. He liked the queen too. She was a salty woman, like his grandmother, who didn’t let anything get by her. He wanted to help them. He didn’t know whether he or Ruger wanted to help more. Something more seemed to exist between Ruger and the queen that he didn’t comprehend. Her gentle touch jolted his heart. He wanted to go home, but he wanted to help them too. He’d gotten caught up in their lives. Now, he had to try.
In the meantime, he needed to figure out what was really going on in his mind. Everything he saw, tasted, or touched had been real. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that he had indeed been transported into another world and another body. But that was impossible. He’d seen movies like Total Recall and understood the basic concepts of virtual reality, but this was ridiculous.
Plucking at his lips, he said, “Am I Neo? Is this the Matrix?” He rolled onto his side as a multitude of new memories filtered through his mind. He felt as if a jump drive of information had been loaded into him. He recalled various sword-fighting styles: high guard, wrath guard, ox guard. People, places, and things crossed through his thoughts. Some of it was crystal clear, but the rest of it was fuzzy, as if he was sharing his mind with another person, or his had been transplanted into an android. “I just want to drive my beer truck again.”
“What is a matrix?” an invading voice said.
Abraham sat up. Viceroy Leodor stood on the other side of the cell’s bars with a curious look in his eyes and tapped his fingers on the bars. Abraham had a natural aversion to the bald and chinless man.
“It’s a name for a puzzle,” Abraham said.
“Life is a puzzle.” Leodor looked at Abraham with a deep and spacey gaze. Then, he casually leaned against the bars. “Especially yours. Once again, you have escaped a certain death after failing another mission. I don’t know if I should be more impressed or irritated.”
“Why would you be irritated?”
“You’re a Henchman. Less than a goat. You irritate me.”
Abraham stood. “Ah, but I wasn’t always a goat, now was I? I was the king’s finest knight,” Abraham said, probing Leodor. He knew who he was but thought he knew him better. “Was I not?”
Leodor’s frown deepened. He stuck a key in the lock and twisted. “I want you to know that despite my love for the queen, I hope that you don’t make it back. You have been nothing but a waste of time the last several years. I’ve supplied you with your needs. How many of your Henchmen and precious Red Tunics died this time? Forty.”
“Thirty-eight.” The amount jumped right off his tongue, and he felt guilty for saying it. “Why are you keeping tabs on me?”
Leodor rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “That’s my charge, fool.” He narrowed his eyes and looked deep into Abraham’s own. “It seems that wound on your head rattled your gray matter.” He let Abraham pass and led him out of the dungeons. “Based off my count, you’ve led over one hundred seventy-five people to their deaths.”
“Hey, it comes with the territory. And like me, they volunteered for it. They took the King’s Brand—nobody forced them. It’s the same as any soldier.” He didn’t mean to say it in a callous manner, but it came out that way. He wasn’t sure why. But he remembered his father telling him that the moment you sign up in the military, you sign your life away. “Maybe our odds would be better if you joined us?”
“Pfft. I’m in the business of saving our kingdom, not destroying it. Now, if you don’t mind, keep your tongue bridled. Walk with me and listen. There is much that you need to know about the fenix egg if you are going to have a chance at finding it.”
Abraham clammed up. But a voice inside himself wanted to shoot his mouth off. He wasn’t sure whether it was himself or Ruger. After all, he had liked to talk a bunch of smack back in the day. It came out naturally. And if this was a fantasy or dreamworld, he saw no reason not to be whoever he wanted. He followed Leodor through a labyrinth of concealed corridors behind the castle’s main walls and listened intently to the uppity man’s words.
“The last two campaigns started at the same time. One campaign started at the top mountains north of Titanuus’s spine, and the other campaign started at the bottom. The goal was to meet in the middle. The fenix or fenixes nest in those peaks. That’s what the legend says. But it’s thousands of square miles of treacherous terrain. Not to mention the other unexplored phenomena and creatures that indwell the Spine.” Leodor stopped, spun on a heel, and faced Abraham. “Better men and women than you have boldly taken on this quest. None of them have come back. Of course, they may have fallen prey to our enemies, but more than likely, the Spine took them. I think that it will take you too.”
“Thanks for the pep talk. It’s no wonder the kingdom is doing so well.”
Leodor shook his head and led Abraham up a long narrow flight of steps that twisted into one of the six outer towers. Halfway up, they entered a small enclosed room lit
up by a pair of torches in brackets. The king stood inside with two Guardians and his son, Lewis. They were looking at a square table with Jake’s backpack lying on top of it.
43
Night fell upon the Baracha prison yard. On the inner ring halfway up the walls were huge torches in brackets. The guards on the top of the wall shimmied down ropes and lit the torch fires. They provided little illumination and created a darker spot in the middle. That was where Shade and his gang lurked. They waited in the shadows, like prowlers, waiting for the Henchmen to make a move.
The Henchmen huddled together against their section of wall. They were damp from the hard rain, which had finally stopped. The mud that they’d rolled in was caked and dried on their clothes.
Horace sat beside Sticks, clawing the mud out of his beard. Vern lay on his back, groaning from time to time. Bearclaw, Cudgel, Tark, Apollo, and Prospero stood guard, keeping their eyes peeled for another assault by the Gond. The Red Tunics, aside from Twila, stood with them.
“We can always attempt an escape if we have to,” Horace said. “I’d rather die outside of these walls than inside here. I don’t care if I only make it five feet.” He looked at Sticks. “You’re small enough to disappear. We can make the distraction.”
Digging her rock into the ground, she said, “There is nowhere to go. Might as well stay here. I gave my word as a Henchman.”
“We all did. But I’m not going to let Shade get the best of us.” Horace cast his gaze outward. “He’s a snake and a liar. Cost us two missions. He should have been dead, along with the others.”
“I’ve got a shovel ready for him,” Bearclaw said. He turned around. “When they come at us again, I say we all put our efforts on the biggest Gond. Take him down, and it will weaken the others.”
Horace shrugged his heavy shoulders. “It will buy us time. It’s sound enough. You, Cudgel, and Prospero do it. I don’t think Vern will be able do anything. Maybe we can hurl him at them.”
The King's Henchmen: The Henchmen Chronicles - Book 1 Page 15