Why I Can't Have Nice Kings

by Matthew Helbig

  “Likfe wha?” Cat said through a mouthful of popcorn.

  “Where did you get that?” Wolf demanded.

  “I always keep it in my underwear in case someone tells a good story. Want some?”

  Werin began to pace back and forth. “Do you remember the Great Fire that wiped out the Sculander capital building? Ferelic’s work. He impersonated the duke and ordered it burned.”

  Ferelic shrugged. “So what? My clients paid good money for that.”

  “Did you have to burn the orphanage, too?”

  “The orphans kept taunting me with their downtrodden eyes.”

  “Normal people would feel sympathy for that look. He’s also responsible for the Pantsing of the Ambassador of Lithia, the Reasonably Large Suspender Riots, the Great Baby Strike, the Shaving of the High Minister of Cheese, and the Prolonged Staring Contest.”

  “I did not cause the Great Baby Strike. I only encouraged it. Those babies were on the verge, anyway.”

  “Well, I know you personally started the Prolonged Staring Contest. Production in New Atlia ceased for over two months because of you.”

  “I can’t help it. It’d be immoral not to use such a fantastic gift. If I wasn’t supposed to use it, The One wouldn’t have given it to me.”

  “Regardless, it’s illegal, and it gives me great pleasure to finally arrest you,” Werin said as he tied Ferelic’s wrists. “You have the right to say anything stupid you want. Anything you say, think, or might say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, then you’re in trouble, because we’re not paying for one. Do you understand these rights?”

  “No.”

  “Even better. You can try to figure them out for the next hundred years in a dark cell.”

  H.O. Phoine Home?

  Surprisingly, the journey to the capital went without incident. I guessed the showrunners felt they had enough material or had run out of ideas for how to make this any more ridiculous. Even I couldn’t think of how to top werepuppies and deadly toddlers. Werin managed to find us an escort and a nice wagon to sleep in. Much to Cat’s dismay, Mr. Plot Device decided to go back to a previous job, teaching at the university. Cat’s decision to blame the monkey for the theft had evidently strained their friendship too far.

  Werin and his daughter stayed their typical “as far apart as humanly possible while still being part of the same group” for the beginning of the journey, but as the trip progressed, they slowly got closer and closer to each other. When the capital came into view, it looked like they finally might speak, but the closest they got was a few glances and nods that one might call unobjectionable. Given that they had only looked at each other with hatred or condescension so far, it was a big step.

  Werin escorted us to the palace but had to part ways with us to take care of his prisoner soon after. He was eager to put his captive in a very dark cell. I can relate, as my rivalry with Billiam von Cummerbund is a thing of legend in the literary community. I’m still not sure how that scumbag convinced the judge that his piece of crap was a parody of my beautiful first book. I guessed I couldn’t hate him as much anymore—as this show was a thousand times more insulting—but that likely meant he was somehow involved.

  As Werin rounded the corner to the dungeon, Jackal paused expectantly but finally gave up when the sound of his footsteps faded completely. I felt bad for her, as, even though she was only an actress, I had the feeling that this was all real to her. Perhaps the actress had a similar situation with her real father. I jumped with a start, and in reaction so did Jackal, when a finger tapped me on the back.

  “This isn’t the time, Cat,” I said.

  “I’m not Cat,” the person behind me said. “He’s down the hall, drawing phalluses on all of the armor. I don’t know what the point is when most of them have codpieces, but it’s keeping him out of real trouble, so I didn’t interrupt. You should probably go stop him or join him. I don’t care, but I’d like to talk to my daughter alone.”

  Werin must have used one of the numerous secret passageways to get behind me; either that, or he had walked around the edges of the set. I nodded in agreement and scurried around the corner, but barely enough so I still could hear.

  “You did . . . good with Ferelic,” Werin said to Jackal. “I’m sure I would have eventually figured it out anyway, but . . . yeah.”

  “Does that mean you’re proud of me, Werin?”

  “Why can’t you call me Dad like all of the other kids? I said you did good. What more do you want?”

  “That you’re proud of me? That you love me? That you’re glad I’m your daughter? Heck, that you even like me.”

  “Just like a woman to cry when I offer even a small compliment. Listen, daughter, you did good, but you know how much putting Ferelic in a cell means to me. I have to go.”

  The word “go” echoed down the hall. I think it still haunts me to this day. I’d never known my dad, being that he and my mom had died when I was little, but my grandpa and grandma had made every effort to let me know how much they loved me. I made a vow to tell any future children I would have how important they were at least three times a day.

  When I heard Jackal’s slow approach, I immediately turned to get as far away as possible. I didn’t want her to know I had been listening. Even if she was only a character, I would likely have to deal with her for several more days, and I didn’t want her to have to act like she hated me.

  Once again, someone had snuck up on me from behind, and I ran smack into Wolf’s large chest. Wolf pointed toward a side chamber, and we ran inside. The chamber looked like it was used for storage.

  “God, Werin is an asshole.” He punched the beard right off a nearby painting.

  “I didn’t write him that way.” I poked two nipple holes in the one nearest me.

  “I’ll make it a point to only take missions as far away from him as possible from now on.”

  “I think I’ll kill him in my next book.”

  “I’d kill him for real if I thought it would help, but I think that would only make it worse.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think she’d ever forgive you if you did.”

  “You’re right. I never had any kids, but I think I could be the father she’s always deserved.”

  “Don’t you already do that for Cat?”

  “I guess I do, but for him it’s mostly making sure he only does minor damage.” He sighed. “We should probably go. I’m pretty sure kings don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  We rushed back to the receiving area outside the throne room. Cat had evidently tried to draw something on Jackal’s face, and she had responded by breaking all of his pens. I cringed at the sight of pens in my medieval world, though they were at least made of crude metal and could theoretically have been produced by their level of technology. Ink was dripping from Cat’s hands, and as the guards opened the door to the throne room to let us know it was time, he quickly cleaned them on the nice white tablecloth under a nearby vase.

  We were escorted into the throne room by guards wearing some of the most elaborate and blindingly shiny armor I’d ever seen. Cat had to walk backwards to avoid the glare, while Jackal stared down at the floor.

  The throne was atop a dais roughly ten feet above the rest of the floor. To either side of it was a smaller chair on a lower tier. I stared into the shadow-filled corners of the room and decided the cameras had to be hidden there. The throne wasn’t occupied, but the two other chairs were. The less elaborate one contained an old man with a long, flowing white beard and robes that very nearly matched his hair—fitting my description of the high chancellor—and the other chair held a teenage boy dressed in royal blue from head to toe, sitting sideways with his legs draped over the side. The young man seemed very bored, to the point that he was nearly asleep. He had to be the prince and heir to the throne. Except for a couple of guards, no one else occupied the chamber.

  “Bring the pa
ckage forward,” the high chancellor said.

  Jackal placed it before him and stepped back into line. The magnitude of being in so important a place had eroded any signs of what had transpired with her father only moments before.

  The chancellor smiled warmly. “As I’m sure Werin has told you, Hammurabi informed us of the importance of this package. Unfortunately, this item is for the king’s eyes only, and the king left for Sculan before we received word of your journey.”

  “Of course he did. They just couldn’t let me out of this show easily, could they?” I said, staring toward the dark corner and the cameras I knew to be there.

  “Hammurabi has no right to order us around,” Prince Ambric said. “He isn’t even the New Atlian representative anymore.”

  “While that is true, Royal Highness, the man has never steered us wrong in the past. He has shown nothing but the utmost diligence and brilliance in his decisions.”

  “When I am king, I’ll sack the lot of you,” the prince grumbled as he groomed his nails.

  “I know you don’t mean that, Highness. Now, on to the matter at hand. Your contract states that you must deliver the package to the king, I believe.”

  “It does,” Wolf said with a hint of a glare in his eyes.

  “Then I charge you to deliver it to the king at Caltisport. I’ll have a ship waiting at the docks in the morning. I know this must be frustrating, but I am sure His Majesty will compensate you further for this complication.”

  The prince paused in grooming his nails. “What’s in this package, anyway?”

  “I don’t know, Highness,” the chancellor said. “Hammurabi said it is of utmost importance to the king, and we must trust his judgment.”

  I had clearly done more than enough service to my imaginary kingdom. Teragonna had only instructed me to deliver the package to the capital, after all. I hoped the chancellor would let me have the Phoine and go home immediately. The Trio didn’t need my help to deliver it over the sea. I decided to act while we still had the chancellor’s opinion high in his mind.

  As I opened my mouth, Cat blurted out, “I think it’s a sandwich.” And with that, any goodwill toward our group surely evaporated. Jackal groaned, and Wolf rolled his eyes.

  “Did he say a sandwich?” the prince said, suddenly perfectly at attention.

  “I believe he did, Highness,” the chancellor said.

  “How could something mundane like a sandwich possibly save the kingdom? Is it magic?”

  “You’d be amazed at the kind of damage I can do with ordinary household objects,” Cat said.

  “Oh, God, not the grape story,” Wolf said.

  “Nice setup, Wolf. We’re like a well-oiled machine. One time, Wolf and I, along with one of the previous Jackals, were cornered by a gang of thugs. We had left our weapons elsewhere as we were travelling undercover as a group of grape salesmen.”

  “No,” Wolf said. “You were undercover as a grape salesman, though no one told you to get into disguise, and you threw our weapons in the river because ‘they don’t look like grapes.’”

  “Are you going to let me finish? The only thing I had close to a weapon was four grapes. So, I put them in my mouth and spat them at our well-armed attackers. I took the first one’s eye out—”

  “The old Jackal did that with his fingers,” Wolf groaned.

  “I disarmed another one with a trick shot—”

  “You distracted Jackal, which caused him to get stabbed.”

  “—and the guy’s weapon got caught in Jackal’s body, which disarmed him.” Cat pretended to try to pull an imaginary sword out of Wolf. “The third one tripped when I bounced a grape under his feet.”

  “He tripped over the clothes you took off.”

  Cat pretended to choke. “I choked another man when I spat the last grape straight into his mouth.”

  “No, he had a stroke when you started to shake your manhood at him.”

  “And due to my mastery of mundane objects, they all ran away.” Cat winked at the prince.

  “No, it’s just that no one wants to wrestle with a naked man.”

  “As you can see, even a seemingly mundane object can turn the tide of battle in the right hands—and I’ll bet the sandwich is a club on rye.”

  “No, no,” the prince said. “It has to be a panini.”

  “I believe it’s a bacon sandwich,” the chancellor said. “Bacon is amazing.”

  “Our country is doomed,” Jackal whispered to me. “I hear Lithia is beautiful this time of year.”

  I shook my head. “Lithia does sound nice, but I really need the Phoine. Do you think he’ll let me have it?”

  Jackal shrugged.

  “Chancellor,” I said, “regardless of what’s in the package, Hammurabi gave us strict instructions not to open it. However, he promised me that the Phoine of Destiny would get me home. I have more than fulfilled my part of the bargain and will be of little use on the voyage to Caltisport. Seeing as how the Phoine is here and it makes little sense for me to travel across the sea and then come back, I ask that I be allowed to use it now, great and honorable high chancellor.”

  “I would like to see it, too,” the prince said. “I’ve heard it radiates a glowing light that’s so beautiful, it’ll make even the vilest of individuals weep.”

  “I’ve heard it can peer into your soul,” Wolf said.

  “No, it can make two enemies fall in love,” Jackal said.

  “I heard it’s a cake,” Cat said.

  “What kind?” The prince leaned over in great curiosity.

  “Cat, are you hungry?” Wolf said.

  “No, why?”

  “Regardless of what it can do,” the chancellor said, “I’m afraid I cannot fulfill your request. The king took the Phoine to Caltisport.”

  I almost broke down and wept. They clearly weren’t going to show me any mercy and let me leave. Couldn’t they continue the show without me? The only thing I added was a good shot of a regularly disgusted face. They could use footage from before for that and have a stunt double fill in.

  Someone really hated me and wanted to abuse me mercilessly.

  More Than Three Is Not a Trio

  After a good night’s rest in the palace, we were escorted to the docks and a very speedy-looking ship. It looked pretty aerodynamic, anyway, unlike the bulky cargo ship that had brought me to this island. The ship was manned by professional-looking men dressed in the royal colors, complete with a taciturn captain whose only interests were his ship and his duty. He immediately had us escorted below and out of the way.

  The chancellor had arranged for an extra complement of men-at-arms and archers to accompany us, as well as two escort ships. This would turn out to be one of the few times in this entire adventure that I felt like I was being given the recognition I deserved.

  Fortunately, there was no game of cards going on below deck, unlike my previous maritime journey. There did not even appear to be any other passengers. I assumed the chancellor didn’t want even the slightest breach of security, so important was our mission.

  “So, besides Cat, what do you think this stupid thing is?” I asked.

  “An all-powerful weapon of some sort,” Wolf said. “Perhaps the Sword of St. Maxentious or the Breath of The One.”

  “The box isn’t big enough for a sword,” Jackal said, “but it could contain a vial or a bottle. I think it’s a scroll or a book with detailed plans for how to defeat the Sculanders.”

  “I’m going to guess it’s the Phoine of Destiny or something else that could get me home,” I said, “though with how things have been going, Cat’s probably right.”

  Jackal put her hand on my shoulder. “You really miss your home, don’t you, Harry? What do you miss most?”

  “I miss writing. And my next book isn’t going to be anything like what’s happened over the last week. There will definitely not be any werepuppies.”

  “Yeah, I doubt anyone would believe half of the stuff we’ve seen. Well, maybe t
hey’d believe it a little more if they met Cat.”

  “I am too good to be true, aren’t I?” Cat said. “Who would believe all of this awesomeness could possibly be present in one package? Hee-hee. I said ‘package.’”

  Jackal groaned. “You’re a package of something, all right.”

  Cat grinned stupidly. “So, Jackal, how did it go with your dad? He seems like a great guy. I was trying to draw dongs on all the armor with charcoal, but it wasn’t the right medium, so he showed me where they kept the pens.”

  “Don’t ever mention him again, please.” She lowered her eyes.

  “Cat,” Wolf said, “this isn’t like how I told you not to mention what you did in Meraboern, and you bring that up every time I say I’m going to the bathroom. This is something you really shouldn’t bring up.”

  I decided to save Jackal and the actress playing her from having to speak about something that was obviously very painful and changed the subject. “So, how long have you three worked together?”

  “Cat and I have worked together for five years now,” Wolf said. “This Jackal replaced the previous Jackal when he tried to fly off the top of a fifteen-foot-tall tower.”

  Cat smirked. “Now, that was an idiot. I told him jackals don’t fly, they levitate.”

  “He was a truly exceptional idiot. Cat looked like a genius beside him, but he could find anyone or anything even if there was no trail or clues. We figured if anyone could replace him, it would be the daughter of . . . sorry.”

  Jackal shrugged and stared at the deck.

  The Fanged Trio was really the only bright spot of this show. I was considering actually including them in my next book, but I’d have to recast Cat with someone less ridiculous, because no one would believe half the things he’d done. “So, when someone dies or leaves the group, you replace them. Are there always only three of you?”

  “Yes,” Wolf said. “Cat replaced his own father. Old Tamin was the most skilled swordsman I’ve ever worked with. I figured if anyone could fill his shoes, it would be his son.”