Forgotten Hero

by Brian Murray

  “Did you mean it?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Mean what?”

  “About marrying me, you oaf, I don’t want to be led on.” She looked directly into Felix’s light brown eyes, waiting for his answer.

  Felix broke into a beaming smile. “Since the first time you came into my father’s bakery, I knew you were the one. You are the most beautiful maiden in the whole Kingdom, and if you agree, I will ask your mother for your hand.”

  Tears of happiness tumbled down the girl’s face. “We’d better go and see what my mother has to say about this.”

  Felix dropped onto one knee and proposed to his sweetheart. “Christie, I know we know little about each other, but I believe in soul-mates and my father found my mother and proposed on their first meeting. You see he found his soul-mate, and I believe deep down I have found mine. The Divine One can strike me down here and now and I will be perfectly happy only knowing you would want to share your life with me. I cannot promise you great riches like silk clothes nor lots of golden trinkets, but you will be rich with love.”

  Christie smiled, gazing deep into the man’s eyes. From the first time they had spoken, a spark had struck her heart and she knew he was the one for her. “Let’s go and see my mother,” she replied. Christie’s father, a Royal Lancer, had died during a training accident when the girl was still a babe. Traditionally, a man would ask the father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. But with her father dead, Felix needed to ask her mother.

  Felix stood up, whooping and dancing around the girl, his face beaming with joy. “What are we waiting for, let’s go,” he shrieked happily.

  With pride, Felix walked his girl home to meet her mother. After half an hour they arrived at the door, where Felix started to feel his nerves playing in his stomach. He paused and drew Christie close to him. To her surprise, he kissed her on the lips and smiled.

  “I’m ready now,” he announced.

  Christie opened the door and skipped into her house, calling her mother.

  Her mother was standing in the kitchen washing some sheets.

  Her eyes widened when she saw her daughter in the beautiful yellow and white frock. She smiled, her face full of pride and happiness. She dried her hands and looked at the young man with her daughter.

  “Mother, this is Felix. Felix, this is my mother.”

  Felix bowed and said, “Ma’am, it is an honour to meet you.”

  Christie’s mother smiled. “I have heard a lot about you. How are your mother and father?”

  “They are very well, thank you very much for asking, ma’am.”

  Christie stepped forward and gave her mother the gift from Krondo. Christie’s mother smiled and looked at Felix. “Cheesy bread?”

  “A gift from my father, ma’am.”

  Putting the bread down, she said, “Thank your father for me.”

  “I will,” replied Felix happily.

  A silence hung in the kitchen. Felix took a deep breath. “Ma’am, I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. I know I have found my soul mate and will work hard to ensure she never wants for anything. I am a baker’s son and will take over my father’s bakery or will start another one outside the city. However, I would like to stay and continue our family bakery with Christie beside me as my wife.” Felix had to let Christie’s mother know that he was a man who could provide for her daughter.

  Christie’s mother sat down and looked up at Felix. “Christie is my only daughter and I want to ensure she will always be happy. You seem a very nice boy, Felix, and I know your parents have brought you up properly, with dignity, honour, and pride.” She paused.

  Felix’s heart dropped. She’s going to refuse, he thought with dread.

  “I will be happy to give my daughter away to you, young Felix,” she announced.

  Felix’s smile broadened and tears of joy rolled down his cheek. He walked up to Christie’s mother, kissed her on both cheeks, and proudly said, “From now on, you will be mother to me.”

  Tears of happiness rolled down Christie’s cheeks and she smiled. “We had better go and see your parents now,” she said, beaming.

  Arm in arm, the couple went to the family bakery. They entered the shop where Felix’s mother was tidying up after the day’s trade. Felix cleared his throat to get his mother’s attention.

  Marva looked up and smiled at her son. “Well, well now, what a fine couple you two make. Kron, quick, come here and take a look,” she called.

  Krondo entered the shop, wiping his hands on his now dirty apron. “My, my, what a pair. Christie, you look absolutely gorgeous, my girl.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said the maid, curtsying.

  “Mother, Father, I have an announcement to make.” Felix paused and put his arm around Christie. “Christie and I are to be married.”

  Krondo smiled broadly and walked over to the couple to give Christie a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, my dear. I am so proud.”

  Marva stepped forward, tears rolling down her face. “Felix, Christie I am so happy.” She smiled and hugged Christie. “So happy.”

  At that moment, Aurillia from the Flying Vessel walked into the shop to collect her delivery. Marva wiped the tears away from her eyes and served Aurillia.

  “I’m so sorry about my state, but my babe is getting married.” Marva left the shop to get Aurillia’s parcel. Aurillia turned round and looked at the couple talking to Baker Krondo. Marva walked back in with a box containing several loaves of cheesy bread and some pastries.

  “They make a very handsome couple,” said Aurillia honestly.

  “Aye, that they do. I’m so proud of him.” Marva paused, then looked at Aurillia. “Shall I put this on your father’s bill?”

  “Please, Father said he would settle at the end of the month as usual.”

  Aurillia left the shop. Looking back at the couple, she smiled and thought of Zane. She sighed as loneliness enveloped her like a heavy cloak.

  ***

  Aurillia walked slowly through the market square, scanning the goods for sale in the many stalls. Each stall was covered with brightly coloured canopies, and had one or two sellers. On the north side, the stalls sold fine clothes from all around the Kingdom and beyond. To the south were the meats, spices, vegetables, and fruit. In the centre of the market were stalls full of trinkets and jewellery. She bought beef and vegetables and collected some spices for the tavern’s evening meal.

  She hummed a tune to herself as she walked through the narrow streets that led to her father’s tavern. She was quite safe on the streets, as here near Downtown, everyone recognised Rayth’s daughter on sight, and the man’s fiery temper was legendary. Occasionally someone would stop her, asking for her to pass a message to Rayth, but today no one bothered her. As she turned to face the tavern, she sighed. She had not heard from Zane and it had now been well over a month. She knew royal business had taken him away, but had no idea what dangers he had faced or was currently facing.

  The tavern in front of her was a simple detached two-storey building made of dull grey stone. It had a large, wooden door with a stained round window. To either side of the door were two windows tinted brown from pipe smoke. The wooden shutters that protected the windows during the night had been opened and pinned back. Above the door, creaking gently, was the tavern sign – ‘The Flying Vessel’ printed below a fading picture of a sailing ship gliding on a white cloud. Walking round the building, Aurillia reached the back door and entered her home.

  “Afternoon, Kammi,” she called out.

  Kammi, the cook of the Flying Vessel, was a plump woman with a red face, and a happy smile that lifted her chubby cheeks. However, if crossed, her temper flared to the surface faster than Rayth’s. A few years earlier, she had unfortunately lost her husband and taken solace in drink. When everyone else had spurned her, due to her excessive drinking, Rayth took pity on her, offering her a job. She had been working at the Flying Vessel for ten years and during that time she had not
touched any liquor. Rayth and Kammi had an agreement they both stuck to: No drink until Aurillia’s wedding and the birth of her children. To Kammi, Aurillia was the daughter she had never had and no one, but no one, could say a bad word about her.

  “Hello child,” answered Kammi, beaming her smile. “Did you get my bits?”

  “Aye, the beef and vegetables will be delivered soon, and here are your spices, bread, and pastries.”

  Kammi’s smile broadened. “Well then, you’d better have a seat and let me make some tisane to go with those pastries.”

  The older woman put on the kettle and walked to the door adjoining the common room where she called, “Rayth!”

  Moments later, Rayth’s bulky frame filled the doorway, a perplexed expression on his wide face. Peering into the kitchen, all of his problems dissolved at the sight of his daughter, and the delicate pastries on the table. He kissed his daughter on the forehead and smiled. “You’re back.”

  “Hello, Father,” said Aurillia, smiling back at him.

  “I have something for you, child,” said Rayth. He went back into the common room, returning with a parchment. “I think it is from Zane.”

  Aurillia’s heart missed a beat at the mention of the prince’s name. Rayth handed her the parchment and watched the excitement in her eyes. Not being able to wait, she immediately opened the parchment and read it. Both Rayth and Kammi watched as tears silently rolled down her cheek. Looking up to her father, she said. “He’s fine, Father. He’s staying in Ubert and will be gone for a little while longer.”

  Rayth took the chair next to his daughter and put his arm around her shoulders. “Everything will be fine, Auri. He’ll be back very soon.”

  Aurillia rested her head on his shoulder and cried with joy from the news. Hugging his daughter, Rayth remembered Emyra’s words and knew what would be coming soon. Then, sighing as he looked at the pastries, he could resist no longer. Picking up one of the delicate cakes, he took a huge bite. “By the Divine One, I am sure that man is blessed by Her hand.”

  “Who, Father?”

  “Kron the baker, he must be blessed.”

  Aurillia sat up and jigged about excitedly. “I forgot to mention that Felix is getting wed.”

  Kammi sat down with some fresh tisane, a glint of excitement in her eyes from new gossip. “To who?” she asked.

  “You know the maid from the palace, Christie, I believe her name is? It is to be her.”

  “Her father would have been so proud,” said Rayth solemnly. “A good boy, that Felix, not too strong, but he will look after his girl until the end. Old romantics, the whole family.”

  “Aye, they make a very handsome couple.”

  “And so do you and Zane, my child,” added Kammi, smiling proudly.

  Aurillia blushed and reached for a pastry filled with fresh fruit and cream. She did not answer, just bit into her sweet cake

  They sat for half an hour idly chatting, eating the pastries and drinking tisane. Then Rayth got up and walked through to the common room to open the tavern, leaving Aurillia rereading the note from Zane. Walking behind the bar, he busied himself trying not to think of Zane and Aurillia, and the problems to come. No point in worrying about them now, he thought. Nothing I can do until the prince returns.

  ***

  The afternoon passed quietly and by late afternoon, the smell of spiced beef stew wafted through, filling the common room. Many of Rayth’s regular customers were already sitting in their usual seats, and a few newcomers filled his tavern.

  Kammi called to Rayth and he rang his bell to notify the customers the evening meal was ready to be served. Rayth toured the common room and took the orders from his regular customers. Aurillia helped her father by taking the orders from the other customers as she had more patience with them. Within a short time, platters of steaming stew and fresh toasted cheesy bread were being served. After an hour, the stew had finished so Rayth and Aurillia cleaned the tables of platters. Now the hard drinking would start and at this time, many of Rayth’s regulars bade their farewells, paying for their meals as they left.

  One of Rayth’s regulars walked up to the bar and called the former axe-wielder over.

  “Dank, how are you?”

  “Good, thank you, Rayth.” Rayth put his elbows on to the bar and leaned close to his friend.

  “Any news from the mistress?” Dank asked. Dank got his name from his days as an axe-wielder when everyone joked about his drab, dull clothes. Rayth was one of the few men who knew exactly how and why he inherited the name, and he would not tell anyone.

  “Aye, we are to sit still for the time being and see what happens.”

  “Rayth, I was in the war against the Kharnacks and fought at your side, with axe in hand. So you know what I mean when I say, something here does not feel right.”

  Rayth smiled as he remembered the two standing back to back, detached from their company, surrounded by Kharnacks. Their commanding officer had lost his courage and fled with the majority of the company of axe-wielders. The few who remained were swiftly cut down, and soon only two remained standing on the bloody ground. Dank received a cut across his torso but Rayth fought on, standing over and protecting his fallen comrade. For what seemed like an age the axe-wielder cut, hacked, and chopped at the charging Kharnacks. Suddenly, a call went up and they stopped attacking. A Kharnack warrior walked up to the bloodied and exhausted Rhaurn. Rayth hefted his axe ready to fight.

  “You fight well, big man. A born warrior and I respect that, you have not left your fallen comrade,” said Maldino, the clan chieftain of the Silverswords, in broken Rhaurien. The Kharnack threw his sword at Rayth’s feet and it stabbed into the churned mud with its hilt wagging. Looking again at the exhausted Rhaurn, he smiled, then ordered his clansmen to leave. Rayth collapsed onto his knees and gave thanks to the Divine One. He knew he only had one more swing left in his body and that would be the end. Later that bloody day, the company of axe-wielders returned with the stretcher-bearers, who found Rayth and Dank. Rayth was clutching his gift from the Kharnack chieftain and to this day, Rayth kept the sword in his room, wrapped in an oiled cloth to preserve the blade.

  “Rayth?”

  “Sorry, my friend, I was day-dreaming. Where was I? Ah yes . . . We are to sit still until we know what is happening.”

  “Are those her instructions?”

  “Aye.”

  “But we’re losing a lot here.”

  “I know, but we’re not ready to wage a war. We do not yet know who our enemy is.”

  “That’s true, but we have to do something. We can’t just sit around and let someone take over our docks,” argued the man in a hoarse whisper.

  “Dank, I have the same thoughts as you have but I don’t think we’re dealing with normal bashers. I think they could be soldiers.”

  “Soldiers in Teldor?!” hissed Dank sharply, searching the common room to see if he was being watched or overheard. At a table near the door, two men watched the conversation at the bar.

  “I think so, so be careful,” cautioned the innkeeper.

  “Aye, I will. Thanks for the warning.”

  “When you see the others, pass on the warning. We don’t want trouble at this time.”

  “I will pass the message on to the other bashers.”

  “Good.”

  “Wench!” The shout came from table in the corner. Rayth looked up with a frown. Aurillia was serving in the common room, as his usual maid was unwell.

  “Wench!” repeated the man in a drunken slur. “We want drinks now.”

  Rayth watched Aurillia approach the man to take his order.

  After ordering ales, the man slapped Aurillia on the rump. Aurillia spun and cursed the man for touching her. The man rose from his chair, wobbling from the effects of too much ale. With his drinking mates laughing, the man grabbed Aurillia and sat down, putting the girl across his knee, and started spanking her.

  In a rage, Rayth grabbed his club and vaulted the bar. For a b
ig man, the innkeeper was surprisingly agile.

  The customer pushed Aurillia onto the floor and roared with laughter. Rayth grabbed the man by the hair, yanking him to his feet. The drunk’s laughter froze in his throat. Before he could breathe or say a word, Rayth smacked him backhanded with his club. The man flew across the table and landed in one of the other men’s lap, sending them both sprawling. Rayth had not finished – the man had touched his daughter.

  One of the man’s drinking companions rose, drew a rusty dagger, and attacked. A mistake. Rayth slapped the dagger out of the man’s hand and grabbed him by his shoulder-length hair. Violently, Rayth drove the man’s face down into the thick wooden table, pulverising his perked nose. Blood from the wound splattered against the wooden floor. The man slumped to the floor and did not move. The first man who had touched Aurillia rose and drew a sword. Customers in the common room made room around the two while Dank ran out of the tavern to get the City Watch. Normally, Dank would stand at Rayth’s side, but he knew Rayth. When fired up, nothing except his daughter could calm him down and the brawl could get out of hand. A man could easily die for touching Aurillia and he did not want to see his friend in the dungeons as a result.

  Inside the tavern, Rayth reached down and Aurillia took his hand. “Go behind the bar.” Aurillia’s eyes widened and Rayth slowly turned.

  Rayth watched the drunken man step forward with his sword drawn. “Go behind the bar, Auri,” he repeated softly, and she rushed off.

  Rayth stalked forward. “Boy, you’re making a mistake. You face the only standing axe-wielder from Ractenack Pass. You’re in the wrong and I will let you take yourself out of my tavern, walking. Take another step forward, you will face my wrath and you will be carried out.”

  The man stepped forward.

  Rayth, like the seasoned warrior he was, stood and waited. One of the drunk’s other companions rose. Rayth punched the rising man unconscious, without taking his eye off the drunk with the sword. The drunk’s eyes darted around the room from face to face, and then looked down at his fallen companions. He swallowed and hesitated.

  As fast as lightning, Rayth charged the man, punching him square in the face. The man dropped and released his sword, which clattered on the wooden floor. The man struggled to his feet.