Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

Once they exited the building and started back toward the docks to find Deck Master Biggs and the crew, Trant cuffed Phen on the back of the head. Phen didn’t like it, but he knew he deserved the correction.

“ Silverleafedskullrella?” Trant asked incredulously. “You must be daft. What were you thinking? And that talk of Borinian priests… Bah!” He shook his head, but there was a smile on his face.

That evening they all dined in a place frequented by captains and lesser lords. The fare was fantastic and the drink strong. They roomed at an inn called The Sword of Salt, in a section of the city where people, mostly from the eastern part of the mainland, caroused. The Captain explained that there were Dakaneese, and Westland sections of the city as well, but that they wouldn’t be welcomed there. “You might find yourself among a crew of inked up Seawardsman over here, even a Valleyan horse trader or two, but that’s far better company than you’ll find anywhere else on the Isle of Salazar.”

Phen didn’t doubt it one bit. He had seen the aggressive looks that some folk gave them as they made their way back to the ship earlier.

The whole of the next afternoon Phen was in the Captain’s quarters translating. Hyden invited Brady, and Oarly to take a walk through the trading lanes. It took only a short while for them to realize that Oarly was a spectacle for the sailors to jeer at. To avoid trouble, they made their way back to the inn and proceeded to get drunk in the common room.

Hyden didn’t overdo it. In the morning, they were to leave port for the little island that lay four days to the west and south of Salazar, the island where Claret had told him they could find Barnacle Bones’s ship. Then the Captain appeared and told him that, later, the two of them would be dining at Lord Buxley’s manor with a couple of notable ship builders. Hyden had no idea who Lord Buxley was, but Trant spoke of him as if he were a powerful man in the greater scheme of things.

It gave Hyden a chill just thinking about what he had to do after they found the skull. If it was up to him, Zorellin’s gourd could stay where it lay, and the ring Gerard took into the Nethers could stay where it was, as well. The goddess of his people had told him to go after the ring, though, and to do that he needed the Silver Skull. She had helped him and Mikahl destroy the demon-wizard Pael and his minions. There was no way he could deny her. If she said that it must be done, then he would do it. She was a goddess after all.

Phen came down late in the afternoon looking for something to eat. He was excited to see Hyden there, and as soon as he asked for some meat and bread, he took a seat next to him and started telling what he had learned so far.

“The dead man in the cavern, the skeleton with a key around his neck, was an elven consort, whatever that is?” Phen said quickly. “His name was something like Heart of Leafy Oak, or Leafy Oak Heart, in our language. The ring he was carrying was a gift from the elven king or queen of the time.”

Hyden nodded in appreciation of Phen’s efforts as much as at the royal nature of the gift.

“The book is his journal. He started it the day he left the Heartswood. I guess that’s where the elves used to live.”

“Still is,” Hyden explained. “The Heartswood is a forest that lies in some secret elven land, but it’s magical. When the elves are in the Evermore Forest, it’s because the whole Heartswood is in the Evermore.” Thinking about elves made him sad, leaving his expression uneasy.

Sensing Hyden’s discomfort, Phen picked up where he left off, just as cheerily as ever.

“He wrote his name, and his family lineage, which is two whole pages long. Then he wrote what his mission was-all on the day he started the journal. I haven’t gotten to how he ended up in the serpent’s lair yet, but I skipped forward and found a little bit about the king he was delivering the gift to.” Phen stopped as his bread and meat, and a big goblet of ale arrived before him. Hyden poured most of the ale into his own cup then sent the barmaid after some fresh milk.

“You have to stay alert for these two,” Hyden indicated the weaving form of Oarly perched next to Brady at the bar. Brady was sitting with this face down, passed out on the planks. “Deck Master Biggs will be around tonight, but Captain Trant and I are having dinner with a shipbuilder.” He turned to Phen and grinned. “You and Talon get to watch over the drunks while we’re gone.”

“I’ll be in Captain Trant’s room working,” said Phen through a mouthful of bread. “Master Biggs can watch ’em.”

“Aye,” Hyden laughed at Phen’s studiousness. “At least keep an eye on Talon, then. Take a chunk of meat for him when you go.”

“Aye,” Phen replied. He took a long sip from Hyden’s goblet when Hyden was looking away. When he had Hyden’s attention again he told him he should probably take a bath before he went to a formal dinner.

Hyden laughed, but left to find the innkeeper. Phen took a few more sips of the ale. He was too intent on learning everything he could about the ring and the oak-hearted elf to let himself get drunk, but the fact he had distracted Hyden enough that he could get drunk if he wanted pleased him to no end.

Lord Buxley’s table was set with golden dinnerware in a dark, candlelit, wood-paneled room that sported several grand seascapes and a fireplace the size of a small cottage. Hyden thought it was silly drinking from a golden cup and eating with solid gold utensils. It was nerve-wracking for him. He found himself worrying about proper manners with every word he spoke. Phen always called him a mountain clan hick, but hadn’t taken the time to instruct him on etiquette. What few manners he did possess, he learned from Mikahl, who had been raised in a Westland castle, and Queen Willa, who, like an overly concerned mother, seemed to correct his every public move.

The fare was freshly killed game hens and honeyed pork with butter-soft rolls and vegetables. The wine was sweet, smooth, and very potent. Hyden managed not to embarrass himself through the feast and was glad when the conversation turned from technical shipbuilding jargon and general news from ports afar, to him.

Four men, all important to the shipping industry in one form or another, shared the lord’s table with him and the Captain.

“So, they say you stole away Queen Shaella’s dragon,” the pudgy, but kind lord of the manor said to him. He obviously wanted to hear the story firsthand.

“Aye, uh, yes, sir,” Hyden stammered. “The dragon-Claret is her name-wasn’t serving her by choice. Shaella tricked her into a binding collar. She controlled the dragon through a similar collar that she wore.” Hyden leaned back in his seat feeling awkward. “It was just a matter of getting the collar from her neck to mine.”

“How, pray tell, did you do that?” another man at the table asked.

“I shot it from her neck with an arrow,” answered Hyden seriously. “Of course, I asked the dragon to keep still when I did it.”

“Of course,” Lord Buxley shared a glance with Captain Trant and the others that showed his disbelief.

“Impossible,” one of them said.

“Preposterous is what it is,” suggested another.

Captain Trant shrugged. He was beginning to see that this dinner was not going as planned. He hadn’t realized how out of place Hyden would be in a formal situation. An idea struck him. “You have a bow or two about, don’t you? Let us see just how good our hero is with one.”

An hour later Hyden was amazing them all with his talent from a balcony that overlooked the well-kept wooded garden at the rear of Buxley’s estate. The sun had set and it was growing dark outside.