Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

They took seats at the table and a pretty lady dressed as a pirate, complete with an eye patch, and mummer’s sword brought out a tall flagon of wine. Hyden stopped her at half full on his and Phen’s goblets and ordered sweet milk for the two of them to come with their courses.

The singer started into a ballad just as hot bread and clam stew came to the tables. The man sang of a sailor who was out chasing treasure, and had left his beautiful lover back at port. There came a time when the sailor had to choose between the treasure and returning to his love. Of course he tried to have them both, and his lover ended up drowning in her own tears.

The wagon master and the commander of the Blacksword escort joined them, along with a senior member of Captain Trant’s crew, who was introduced as Deck Master Biggs. They brought the news that the ship had been loaded. During all this, Oarly put away goblet after goblet of wine but showed no signs of even starting to be intoxicated. He did laugh rather robustly at some things that weren’t that funny, but his speech never slurred and his wit stayed sharp.

They learned that they had suites in the inn for the night, courtesy of Queen Willa herself. Captain Trant told them this after a main course of nut crusted sea ray on a bed of rice that was smothered in mushroom sauce. Hyden was thankful to find this out, for his stomach was starting to roil. Phen was to share a room with him, but the boy wanted to stay and listen to the bard. Brady assured Hyden that Phen would be well supervised, so Hyden let Talon out to hunt, then went upstairs to their rooms to find the privy.

The singer was in the middle of a ditty about a fisherman who filled his boat full of fish and won the love of another captain’s daughter when Hyden’s horrid pain-filled scream cut through the whole place like a fog horn.

“That’d be that bite of cinder pepper coming out,” Oarly bellowed into the hushed awe that filled the common room. The dwarf didn’t care that he was the only one laughing. In fact, it made him laugh all the harder.

High King Mikahl, King Jarrek, and General Spyra rode three abreast across the wagon-bridge. Not far behind them came their squires. The Pixie River was running fat and swift through the wreckage that was once the town of Tarn. The river flowed out of the Evermore Forest southward and created the border between the kingdoms of Highwander and Seaward. The wagon bridge was wooden and strong, but not strong enough for two hundred Blacksword soldiers and three hundred archers to just come barreling across. There were a few footbridges as well. The three commanders, Mikahl, Jarrek and Spyra, found an old maple full of spring leaves and sat in the saddle under it conversing as the slow process of crossing the men into Seaward began.

“How far is it to Tip?” Mikahl asked the General. Tip was where they would cross out of Seaward into the kingdom of Valleya.

“A week at this pace.”

Barely half a hundred people were left in Tarn. They stopped rebuilding and planting to watch the procession cross the river. A crier had come through earlier to make sure that the way was clear and that the good folk wouldn’t be terrified. They’d been through enough already. King Broderick and Queen Rachel’s combined army had first attacked Highwander here. The fight had been bloody, and ultimately had only served to add more corpses to Pael’s undead army. Not much was left. Tarn had once been able to boast almost a thousand people, but no more. Those who hadn’t died in the first attack were ridden over when the undead came. The ones who survived were either lucky, or fled the mayhem for the forest. The Highwander city of Plat looked about the same when the procession had passed through the day before yesterday.

“We’re back-tracking the demon-wizard’s path of destruction,” said King Jarrek. “It looks like war tore through here, but something’s missing and I just can’t put a finger on it.”

“The bodies are missing. No grave stones even,” Mikahl said somberly. “Pael raised the dead and marched them to Xwarda to fight us.”

“Seeing this is a powerful reminder of what the people have been put through,” Jarrek mused aloud. “If King Broderick had a lick of sense he would have come to Xwarda so that you wouldn’t show up at his door with all of this fresh on your mind.”

“He’s afraid that Queen Willa will lock him away in her dungeon, I think,” said General Spyra.

“He is a coward. He fled his own castle at Dreen and left his people to face Pael,” Jarrek reminded them. “He ordered the small folk inside the red wall and then fled south to Strond. I think that’s where Brady said he went.”

“Brady is your man, the one who braved the enemy lines to warn them?” asked the General.

“Yes. Targon magicked me and a few others out of Wildermont, but barely,” Jarrek said. “I felt it only right to warn the people of Dreen of what was coming. I ordered Brady to ride to them. He stayed and fought with the Valleyans until the dawn broke and the dead started rising. He knew that I was headed to Xwarda with Targon so he rode ahead of Pael to warn everybody. He ran smack into King Broderick and Queen Rachel’s army at Plat. He was captured, but then escaped. He showed up in Xwarda at the palace gates in the middle of Pael’s attack, bewildered and half starved.”

“The boy’s got heart,” Spyra said.

“Aye,” agreed Mikahl. “Who managed to capture him?”

“Blacksword soldiers, I think,” answered Jarrek. “They thought he was one of King Broderick or Queen Rachel’s spies, I’m sure. I think that was why he was so confused. He was trying to warn them all that the dead were about to attack them, but no one would listen to him. His father was killed when Pael brought down the towers at Castlemont. He and I were fighting just a few hundred yards away.” Jarrek paused a moment picturing it all in his head. “I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore, if you’ll excuse me.” Before Mikahl or the General could respond he spurred his horse away.

“I don’t envy that one,” General Spyra said, after King Jarrek was gone. “There’s a long, hard road ahead of him. And you’ve got your work cut out for you as well. What will you do after King Broderick licks your boots?”

“Queen Willa would have me ride down to Seaward City to swoon over Princess Rosa, but I’m not sure if I will. I have a mind to go to O’Dakahn and see what this King Ra’Gren is all about. Maybe if I meet with him we can spare some future bloodshed.”

“Ra’Gren is about nothing but gold and power.” General Spyra actually spat his distaste for the man into the dirt. “The whole kingdom of Dakahn is run by greedy, pitiless overlords, and their king is the worst slaver of them all. You’ll have to either take Dakahn by force, or get really sneaky, unless you want to buy the freedom of the Wildermont people back. One thing about Dakahn is everything there has a price.”

“I guess I haven’t decided my course of action after we deal with King Broderick and Dreen.” Mikahl tried his best not to sound disturbed by the General’s lack of optimism. “I know you have a new wife back in Xwarda. I won’t keep you away from her any longer than I must.”

General Spyra beamed at her mention. He was proud of his pretty young wife, Lady Mandary. She was half his age and pretty as a picture. Her true affection was far more than an old, balding man of his girth could have hoped for, but yet he had it. She said that he was her hero. He had fought bravely in the battle against Pael, and Queen Willa had rewarded him publicly, but being his plump little wife’s hero was his favorite thing these days, that and trying to make a little baby general or two to carry on his name.