The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  "No weapons allowed in the dining hall, sir. This is a Feast of Peace.” The guard said, motioning towards Aroron’s blade. “Please give me your sword."

  Aroron hesitated, then reluctantly, he unhooked his belt and placed his sword in the guard's hand. He held it a second longer than he needed to.

  He wondered if he was the only one forced to do this, but then noticed the rest of the guests had to do the same. Good. At least they weren't singling him out for some reason. Still, it was stupid anyone had to do this

  "I better get my sword back when we're done here, or you're the one I'll blame!" Aroron said, shoving past the guard and towards the tables. He felt bare and off balance without his sword.

  Avoiding the nobles moving around the room the best he could, Aroron made his way to the table. He was looking around for a place to sit, when he spotted Prince Telarian motioning to him.

  Hesitantly, he moved towards him.

  "Father had me save you a seat." Prince Telarian whispered, motioning to the chair next to him. "And believe me, you’re not going to want to sit next to some of the other nobles. A lot of them are really loud."

  Aroron laughed, nodded and pulled out his chair.

  He wasn't sure if he wanted to sit next to the prince if he fell into one of his bad moods, but at least he didn't have to figure out where to sit. He was very hungry, but he wanted to ask the prince something before he started to eat.

  “The guard at the door, he called this the 'Feast of Peace', why is that?” Aroron asked. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “Not surprising.” Prince Telarian whispered. “Since you’re not a noble. The Feast of Peace, is the anniversary of Shenock’s peace treaty with the other kingdoms of the realm. Every year, we celebrate another year without war.”

  Aroron felt his body tense. “Is there anyone from Karlay here?” he asked, glancing around.

  “No!” he scoffed. “A Karlien hasn’t attended a feast here since Ozy’s… I mean, King Ozony’s death. Even though Munay’s married to my aunt now.”

  “King Munay remarried?” Aroron asked, frowning. “I heard Queen Gance died, but I never heard about a remarriage.”

  “Yes, my father’s sister married him, I don’t know, a year or two ago?” he said, shrugging. “She was… well, an interesting person. Father was just glad to have her out of Shenock before she made us look like fools.”

  Nodding, Aroron reached for one of the spoons. He was still thinking about what Telarian had said, so his hand was just above the table, when he froze.

  There were four spoons, all different sizes.

  Why did they need more than one spoon for soup?! It was stupid. How was he to know which one to use? They all looked the same to him.

  Sitting on the other side of the room from him, Gana cleared her throat and Aroron looked up. She smiled at him and tapped one of the spoons, with the tip of her finger.

  Aroron felt his cheeks grow hot. He’d hoped no one would notice his confusion, but obviously she had.

  The Loyal Warriors only had one kind of spoon in the Dark Castle.

  He mouthed 'thank you' to Lady Gana, as he picked the spoon up and started to eat the soup. It was hot and salty tasting, with chunks of meat and vegetables mixed in. He couldn't believe how hungry he was!

  The soup tasted so good, and Aroron was just about to eat some more, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he was overcome with a sense of unease.

  Something's not right. He glanced around, but couldn't see anything that might cause his unease. Before he had more time to think about it, there was a light ringing, as someone tapped the edge of their glass cup with a knife. A seat groaned and scraped against the ground, as someone pushed it back and stood. Aroron looked over and saw it was King Dillaran standing at the end of the table.

  “Thank you all for coming to this celebration of peace.” The king said, looking around the table. “I know I speak for all, when I say that our countries are better off when we don’t fight with each other.”

  A cheer rose up and everyone around Aroron started to clap.

  Smiling, the king held up a hand to silence them. "As I was saying to my son earlier, the..."

  King Dillaran's speech was cut short, as a cloaked figure appeared in one of the arched windows.

  He grabbed the edge of the archway and swung himself into the dining hall, landing with a light 'thud' on the wooded floor. "Greetings, lords and ladies," he said, his cloak a flourish of red and black, as he bowed to them. As he did, a gasp rose up from the group, when a Draven swept through the window and landed on the man’s shoulder.

  “Do not worry.” The cloaked man said, reaching up, he took the Draven off his shoulder. “This little bird is harmless.” He said, gently stroking the creature’s metal body.

  King Dillaran laughed. "Is this the entertainment promised?" he asked, glancing around as he took a seat. "I hope everyone enjoys it! You're the one, one of the Palace guards found, are you not?”

  "Yes, my lord," the cloaked figure said, bowing again. “It is my honor to be here."

  "What is your act, my good man?" King Dillaran asked, leaning forwards in his chair. “I wasn’t told.”

  Aroron could tell by the king’s face, he was excited.

  Though Aroron wasn't sure he shared the same sentiment. He was almost positive this man was the reason for his unease, but he wasn't sure. He didn't know what this man might have up his sleeve.

  One thing that stuck out to Aroron, was that Dravens were one of King Munay’s favorite creatures.

  "Ah... King Dillaran, you're too impatient!" The man said, turning to face the king. "The act I have for you tonight, you, nor anyone here will ever forget! I promise you that." The cloaked man's eyes flashed red and the Draven dove forwards.

  Shrieking and flapping its wings. Then, its metal feathers flew in a hundred different directions. Each one found its mark, slamming into the neck of a palace guard.

  The guards dropped like stones.

  It was in that moment the cloaked figure drew his sword. Half a dozen of the guests still standing in the hall, followed suit. Aroron could tell they weren't there to fight the man, they were with him.

  "Death to fools and traitors!" The cloaked man screamed, lunging towards where Aroron and Prince Telarian sat.

  On instinct, Aroron reached for his sword. He patted his leg, but it wasn't there! He’d completely forgotten about the Palace guard taking it from him. How well planned this whole thing is! No one in that room had anything to defend themselves with.

  But that didn't mean Aroron was just going to sit there! He wasn’t one to just watch.

  The cloaked man moved quickly towards them. His sword clutched in his hands, as he readied himself to strike. In one quick movement, Aroron jumped onto the table and slammed his boot down at an angle on the platter in front of Prince Telarian.

  The platter flew up into the air and he caught it.

  He bent back and brought it around just in time to block the cloaked man's sword just inches above Prince Telarian's head. The metal platter bent from the force of the blow, but luckily it held.

  "Move!" Aroron growled to Prince Telarian, as he held the man off with his makeshift shield. The prince quickly scooted back and jumped to his feet, moving out of the man’s reach.

  The cloaked man took a step back and laughed, still holding pressure against the platter.

  "Aroron." He whispered, his eyes burning into him. "I thought that looked like you, not that I’m surprised to see you here." the man said, then before Aroron saw it coming, he spun around and tripped Aroron up, throwing him onto his back, against the table.

  The cloaked man dropped down onto Aroron's chest and brought his sword down too. Aroron barely had enough time to bring the platter up and block the cut towards his head.

  He doubted any of the nobles cared to see his blood on the table, any more than he wanted them to.

  "It would have been so much better for us both, if y
ou hadn't intervened, Aroron." The cloaked man said. “I would have been happy to just kill you both. You didn’t have to step up to go first.” He laughed.

  Aroron glared at him. "So, I do know you!" he hissed. He’d thought he seemed familiar. "How do I know you?"

  "Figure it for yourself, you foolish boy!" he spat. “Because, I don’t care if you know who I am or not, before I kill you.”

  "Alright," Aroron said. “Then I’ll just not let you kill me.” With that, he brought his knees up and slammed them into the man's chest, shoving him off. The cloaked man stumbled and fell back.

  But he was a quick thinker too.

  As he fell, he shoved against the table and flipped over again, landing on his feet a few feet away from Aroron, sword still in hand. A glint in his eyes. This wasn’t just going to be another easy fight for Aroron.

  "You're going to have to do better than that, Aroron," he said. "This is just getting fun." With that, the man's eyes flashed red again and the Draven, who'd been sitting calmly on the window's edge, dove towards Aroron's head.

  He barely ducked down in time, before it swooped over his head and came at him again.

  "Aroron, catch!" Someone yelled.

  Aroron had just enough time to glance over and spot Prince Telarian tossing him the Dragon Blade.

  Time seemed to slow, as Aroron's hand shot out and wrapped around the hilt of his blade.

  He quickly brought it back around towards the Draven, which was diving towards his head again. The sword sliced through the air and slammed into the Draven. It made a mournful noise, then thudded against the wall, where it lay unmoving.

  Normally a Draven couldn’t be killed by a sword, but the Dragon Blade wasn’t a normal sword.

  The Draven remained still and lifeless, black blood stained its feathers.

  The cloaked man looked down at the poor beast, then back at Aroron. He glared at Aroron, his eyes burning with anger. He screamed, lunging towards Aroron. The sound of metal hitting metal, rang out, as their swords clashed together.

  "You killed my Draven!" the man growled, shoving against Aroron. “You have no idea what that bird cost me.”

  “I don’t really care.” Aroron said, grabbing the back of the man's head. Gripping tightly to his hair, he yanked the man around, and brought him down on top of the dishes.

  The plates and cups clattered and shattered, as the man fought to regain his footing. Aroron wasn't about to let that happen, he’d had enough of him!

  Aroron pressed his sword against the man's throat, then he let go of his hair and swung himself up on top of the man, pushing him against the table. His knee shoving against the man's ribs.

  Aroron thought about yanking the mask off his face, but decided against it. There was no reason to.

  Not yet anyways.

  He still wasn't sure who the man might be, but he obviously knew who Aroron was and that was dangerous for Aroron. The man could lead King Munay right to him. The only way to make sure that didn't happen, was to kill the man, but Aroron wasn't sure he could do it.

  Besides, everyone in that room would then know he'd killed him for a reason and not just self-defense. He would have to explain his reason, and that, he couldn’t do.

  "I should kill you!" Aroron growled.

  "Yes, but at what cost?" the man asked, chuckling.

  “What?”

  “The blade isn’t the only way to hurt someone, your father knew that well.” The cloaked man said, then he yelled, "Now!"

  Aroron looked over, just as one of the man's men yanked a girl out of her seat. She yelped out in pain as he pulled on her long golden hair and gripped her arm tightly. When he saw her, Aroron's heart stopped beating.

  It was Gana.

  He felt his mouth turn dry, as the new man dragged her towards them, the edge of his long knife pressed against her throat.

  Aroron could see the fear in her blue eyes, as she stared at him, barely daring to breathe. Aroron's chest tightened and he turned back towards the masked man under him. "What are you doing? Threatening women now? How very noble of you!"

  "I'm not threatening her. I'm threatening you with her," the man said, his voice eerily calm. "Let me up, or I will order them to kill her and her blood will be on your hands, not mine. The choice is yours."

  "What if I just slit your throat?" Aroron growled, pushing his sword a little bit harder against the man’s neck. "You won't be able to give the order to kill her then, will you? A dead man cannot give orders!"

  The man chuckled. "Do you want to give it a try?"

  Aroron glared at him. "Fine!" he said, pushing himself off of him. "There you go! If you hurt a hair on her head, I promise I will not hesitate to kill you, no matter what you might try."

  "Touchy." the man said, holding out his hand to Aroron. "Help me up, now." The man said. “Come on, now!”

  Fighting the urge to slam his foot down on the man, he grabbed his hand and yanked him back to his feet. “There you go, you Vreck!” he hissed.

  “Vreck?” the man repeated, straightening out his clothing. “Shenock’s rubbing off on you.”

  “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “Do they know what you really are?” The man whispered in Aroron’s ear. “Because I highly doubt it. If you showed them your true self, you wouldn’t want anything to do with Shenock.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Aroron growled. “Because I don’t think so, or you wouldn’t be testing.” In one movement, the man moved his sword up and held it against Aroron’s neck. But Aroron stood his ground, and glared back at the man. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  With a ‘bang!’ the doors on both sides of the hall were thrown open and dozens of guards streamed in. How they’d found out what was going on, Aroron had no idea. But there they were, swords drawn.

  “Leave right now, or all your men will die!” Prince Telarian yelled at the man. “Do not think for a second that I’m bluffing.”

  The man looked at Aroron, then Telarian and he laughed. “Alright, I’ll go.” With a wave of his hand, the other man let go of Gana and shoved her to the ground.

  Lowering his sword, the man jumped off the table and back towards the window, Aroron lunged forwards and grabbed hold of his mask. Instead of fighting against Aroron, the man slid his mask off and hurried towards the windows.

  Aroron barely saw the man’s face, but he’d know it anywhere.

  “Kant!” Aroron spat the name, as he watched the Loyal Warrior leap through the window, with one last nod towards Aroron. For a long second he stood there, gripping the mask so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “Kant.” He whispered the name again.

  The man who murdered his guardian in front of him.

  * * *

  Heat clung to the still night air, as Enrick silently worked his way up the Palace steps. Thick clouds cloaked his movements from the moonlight, as he worked his way through the darkness towards the wall.

  Enrick knew that not many people would be able to see him in this dark night, but he also knew there was still a chance. He just had to wait for the signal, if he didn’t wait until Kant had distracted the guards, then there was a high chance of him getting caught.

  He still planned on seeing Salmay again.

  Glancing around, Enrick ducked between two pillars and sat down. He scooted back and out of sight of anyone passing by.

  He’d stay hidden there, until he heard the welcome sound of the city bells ringing. He leaned against one of the pillars and closed his eyes. Hopefully Kant wouldn’t be too much longer.

  * * *

  The nobles around him were yelling, but Aroron couldn’t focus on anything. His head was spinning. What was Kant doing there? And why hadn’t he been surprised to see Aroron? After all, Enrick had left him to die in Hatter less than two months before. Was there any chance Munay was going to come after him again?

  The city’s ringing alarm bells seemed to break through the fog that surrounded Aroron’s mind and pulled him back into the present. After Kan
t left out the window in the dining room, Aroron couldn’t help wondering why he’d come in the first place.

  This was obviously well planned out, yet as far as he could tell, they’d gained nothing.

  There was something else going on here, that much he was sure of. If only he could figure it out! He racked his brain, but he couldn’t think of anything, and he should be able to, after all wasn’t he a Karlien? Raised by a Loyal Warrior?

  Kant was right. Shenock was rubbing off on him.

  He rubbed his face and looked around him. By now most of the nobles were gone, those who were still in the room spoke to each other in whispers, as they nervously looked around them.

  All these people, yet Kant had gone after Prince Telarian. Maybe there was a reason for that.

  Aroron scooted off the table and went to speak with the prince.

  “Well, this was an interesting night.” Telarian said, forcing a smile. “Some of the guards are still asleep.”

  “You may want to put an extra guard or two outside your chamber tonight, Telarian.” Aroron said. “There’s a shadow over this night. The man may not have been the only one after you.”

  “Thank you for the warning, Aroron.” Prince Telarian said. “I will speak to my father about it, though right now he’s still talking with some of the ambassadors. Not surprising, this night wasn’t what they’d expected from a ‘Feast of Peace.’”

  Aroron looked towards the king and nodded. “Yeah, they don’t look very happy. Oh… here comes the Queen.” He mumbled, dropping his gaze as she came over to them.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, placing her hand on Telarian’s shoulder. “Did he hurt you at all?” she asked, looking his face over.

  “I’m fine.” He said, twisting his shoulder so her hand fell off. “I can handle myself. Isn’t there someone else you can bother?” Telarian asked.

  The Queen ducked her head and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was bothering you.” She whispered, turning away. As she walked away from them, Aroron could see the pain in her eyes.