The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  Aroron nodded. “I promise.” He said, then he spun around and hurried towards the door.

  As he wrapped his hand around the handle, he hesitated.

  Is this a mistake? What if it wasn't even Enrick? Then again, what if it was him? Aroron couldn't take the chance it might be him. If it was him, then Aroron would have to warn someone, though he really didn’t want to.

  There was no good reason for Enrick to be there, not after everything that had happened. And how had he gotten in, in the first place? Taking in a couple quick breaths, Aroron opened the door and stepped out.

  It was then, Aroron remembered the last thing Enrick had said to him. He wanted Aroron dead, and he’d do it himself the next time they met. Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Aroron forced himself to look around, and that’s when he saw him

  The boy was leaning against one of the pillars, running his knife across the sharp side of his sword. "Well, well, well. Aroron." He whispered, a smile playing on his lips, as he slowly looked up at him. "It's been awhile."

  Aroron stared at him. Deep down, he’d hoped it wasn’t him. Now that he saw him there, he wished he’d stayed inside the Palace.

  "Enrick?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

  But there was something wrong with him. The light that had once been in the boy's eyes, was gone. There was something almost cold about him.

  If there'd been any doubt about the change in him last time Aroron saw him, it was gone now. His name might be Enrick, but this wasn't the same Enrick who followed after Aroron into the Dubh-Woods. This was no longer a young, innocent boy.

  Then again, Aroron knew he wasn’t the same either.

  He was just about to speak, when he saw the Dragon head tattooed on Enrick’s wrist. "You're a Loyal Warrior?" Aroron whispered, staring at it. It was the same one his guardian had. It was the symbol of death to him.

  Enrick laughed. "Yes, I was the last time we saw each other as well, and the time before that." He said, shoving himself off the pillar. "I've been for years. I got this," he said, running his finger along the tattoo. "For other reasons, one you may have been a part of. But becoming a ‘Loyal Warrior’ really doesn’t compare to what I am now!"

  "How dare you even come here after Telarian signed that insult of a treaty your father sent!" Aroron hissed, glaring at Enrick.

  Enrick laughed. "So, you figured out that was Karlien, not Zilladien? I guess you’re not completely stupid. But my father didn't send that treaty, I did! I'm king of Karlay now, and I’m the one who ordered the attack on Shey. But don’t get a fat head. It was just a bonus that you were here."

  "You? King of Karlay?" Aroron asked, an odd feeling entering his stomach. "If this is what you do as king, you're not fit to be a king."

  "Neither are you." Enrick slid his knife into his belt, then grabbed his sword with both hands and lunged towards Aroron, swinging his blade at him. “We both know this isn’t what you really want. You don’t want to be the pet of that Shenockien king.”

  In one swift movement, Aroron bent back and drew his sword. The second Enrick's sword passed over him, he stood back up again. “What do you want from us? You’ve already had us sign that stupid treaty, taking away our dignity!”

  “Is that why you think I did it? Come on, Aroron!” Enrick said, laughing. “You’re thinking too small. Besides, you speak as if you’re one of them. You’re not! You’re a Karlien, more than I am.” He spat, attacking Aroron again.

  Aroron took a step back and lowered his sword. "Enrick, we don't have to fight like children."

  "Oh, but we're not going to. I plan on killing you!" Enrick screamed, slamming himself into Aroron. He stumbled back and quickly regained his balance. Blocked, cut and parried with his own sword. “Karlay will rise as the High Kingdom, the prophecies all agree upon it.”

  Aroron didn’t know what that meant, or when the heck Enrick had started reading prophecies, but it didn’t matter either. “So, this is what you’ve become?" Aroron asked, between gasps of breath and blocking Enrick's sword. "You took your father’s throne and turned into him?”

  Enrick glared at him. “You know nothing of what had happened since you left. You have no idea what I’ve been through!” he hissed. “Don’t act as if you're better than me!” Enrick's rage made him stronger, almost too much for Aroron to handle. He soon found himself in full retreat. "You know nothing! Nothing about me, and nothing about you."

  Aroron blocked another cut and stepped back. "I am truly sorry about your mother's death, but doing this, isn't going to bring her back."

  Enrick laughed. "You think that's why I'm doing this? You’re as much a fool as Dasety! He underestimated you, he underestimated me, and he overestimates his value. One of these days I will get rid of him!" Enrick spat, slamming his sword into Aroron again. "Just like you!"

  With that, Enrick quickly twisted his sword around, yanking Aroron's blade from his hand. He grabbed Aroron roughly and shoved him towards the railing.

  "Watch!" He hissed, forcing Aroron to turn his head towards the courtyard below them. "This will show you how futile your struggle is. All will fall under Karlien rule! Under my rule!"

  Aroron grunted, as Enrick shoved his chest into the hard, stone railing, looking out over the Palace courtyard. At first, he wasn't sure what Enrick wanted him to see, then he spotted them. Dozens of darkly clothed and masked men stood around the outer edge of the yard, waiting for something.

  In front of them stood one man, a red stripe ran across his mask.

  Enrick signaled to the man, and he led the masked men forwards. Right towards the Palace. None of the guards even tried to stop them.

  "Do you know who these men are? No? Well, they're my 'ambassadors' to Shenock.” Enrick whispered into Aroron’s ear. “Which we both really know means they're here to make sure the treaty is followed to the letter."

  Already, Aroron's mind was working for a way out of this tough spot, so he said nothing to Enrick. He was barely listening to him anyways. Then he had an idea, he knew just what to do.

  "I'm not going to let you kill me," Aroron whispered, glancing towards Enrick. “I won’t let you.”

  "I'm not petty," Enrick said, grinning. "I don't have to kill you myself. Shenock is under my control now, meaning I'll just have you hung for treason, right here in Shey. Won’t that be something? Isn’t that just what King Dillaran wanted to happen to you?"

  "Is this what you've turned into? You're murdering innocents, and for what?” Aroron asked. “Because your father was an insane mad man, bent on ruling the world and you want to follow in his footsteps? Is that it?"

  “Stop judging me!” Enrick screamed, slamming his sword into the railing. “I have only done that which was always meant to be.”

  “Like starting a war?” Aroron asked.

  “Fool!” he spat. “This war began before either of us were born! And it will continue after your death.”

  In a flash, Aroron yanked the knife out of his sleeve and turned towards Enrick. Without letting himself think about what he was doing, Aroron stabbed the knife into Enrick's side. Enrick screamed out, in anger more than pain.

  Aroron rolled across the ground and grabbed up his sword, just as Enrick lunged towards him. “I told you, you’re not going to kill me.” He said, blocking Enrick’s sword. Then Aroron parried his cut and pushed him back. “I’m not judging you. All I’m saying is what you’re doing is wrong, and I believe deep down you know it!” he said, as the ground began to tremble. "I don't want to fight you, we're friends. Don't you remember any of that?" he asked, quickly stepping back.

  "Why would I want to? You're a weak fool!" Enrick spat, yanking the blade out of his side. "There is nowhere you can go, Aroron Normel! I own Shenock now!"

  He glared at Enrick. "Like you pointed out earlier, I'm not Aroron Normel," he whispered, stepping back. “I’m Aroron Strangeheart. This won’t be the last time we meet, Enrick. I promise you that.”

  With that, he spun aro
und and grabbed onto the balcony, looked down at the building below, then without thinking about it, he let go and dropped down, with one thought in his mind. How had things gone so crazy?

  Chapter 27

  On the Roof Top

  Aroron hit the top of the roof, rolled to his feet, and started running.

  He was surprised he'd been able to land on it at all, without breaking his neck, one wrong move and he would slip twenty feet to the hard ground below. Three hounds appeared above his head, snarling, but none of them jumped to follow him.

  That's good. At least Aroron had a head start on them. He could tell even from his brief sight of them, that they were Karlien Blood Hounds. Enrick's little pets. Violent and blood thirsty fiends, with burning red eyes and slick black fur.

  They were not creatures a sane person would wish to meet.

  But luckily for Aroron, they had to go around, whereas all he had to do, was run straight ahead and across the tops of the buildings.

  Taking in a deep breath, Aroron ran forwards as fast as he dared.

  One foot in front of the other, forcing himself not to think about what he was doing or what might happen if he missed one step. He just had to reach the end, then he’d be safe. At least for a little while.

  "I will find you, Aroron!" Enrick screamed after him. "And I will have your head! One way or another! You will die!"

  What's wrong with him?! Aroron wondered. In the back of his mind, he’d hoped that it was just a bad mood Enrick had been going through, but obviously not. He glanced back and nearly slid off the roof.

  He caught himself at the last second and kept going.

  The friend Enrick once was to him, was long gone and Aroron doubted that kind person would ever be seen again. He was lost, like so many others Aroron had known in his lifetime.

  One foot in front of the other, over and over again. On and on, he went. Jumping over ledges and gaps in the roofs.

  He grabbed onto one of the chimneys and quickly pulled himself to the other side, where the row of buildings ended, and he stood on the very edge of the roof. Looking out over the street below him, his mind trying to catch up with his body. He needed a plan, or he wasn't going to survive the night.

  If Enrick had control of half of Shey as he seemed to think, Aroron was in big trouble. Who knew how many people might be hunting for him already? One thing was for sure, he had to get out of the city and fast, before everyone turned on him and he found himself with a noose around his neck.

  For reasons unknown to Aroron, Enrick seemed to hate him and wanted him dead. That was beyond doubting now. It didn’t look like he was going to stop at anything either. He wanted him dead and he was going to throw everything at him.

  Now that Shenock was an ally to Karlay (which Aroron was sure was the case, because of the treaty), he couldn't trust anyone in the Palace or the city.

  He had no friend within the walls. Well, that wasn’t quite true, but what good could Gana or Slanslot do? Not much. He’d have to find his own way out.

  He was just thinking about this, when he caught sight of a pile of hay laying below him. He was better off on the ground, right? If he stayed up there much longer, he was likely to fall. The best idea would be to get down, before he was forced down. Besides, he was less of a target for archers if he was on the ground.

  Taking in a deep breath, Aroron sat on the edge and slid down, his boots slipping along the smooth sand roof. At the last second, he shoved himself up and jumped off the roof, into the pile of hay that lay below.

  He quickly regained his footing and started to run again, this time down one of the side streets.

  By now the sun had gone down, but luckily the moon was bright enough to light his way through the maze of streets that filled Shey. Enrick probably had his men hot on his trail by now and would soon be upon him.

  Still, Aroron planned on making it as hard as he could on them. He wasn’t just going to hand himself over. If there was a chance he could escape, he’d try for it.

  Luckily for him, he'd picked the side of the palace he knew best. Soon, he began to recognize a few of the buildings and streets. If he remembered right, Ingram's shop wasn't too far ahead. Then again, it was starting to grow dark and all the streets were beginning to look the same. It had been weeks since he’d been there.

  With a sinking feeling, he realized he hadn’t even told them he wasn’t coming back for the weekly meeting. In his own defense, for a while there, he hadn’t even been allowed to leave the Palace. But that hadn’t lasted long after King Dillaran’s death and he could have easily gone to see the blacksmith.

  Now, none of that mattered. He just needed somewhere safe to go, and he couldn’t think of anywhere else. Somehow, he needed to find the blacksmith shop, before any of Enrick’s men could follow him.

  Aroron just had to hope that once he was there, Ingram would allow him in. After all, the last time they’d seen each other, Aroron almost got him arrested for treason. Would he risk his neck for Aroron again? He turned a corner and that was when the city bell began to ring. Draven! Now everyone must know he was out there, and the city guards would soon be upon him.

  He wasn’t sure if he could fight the Shenockien guards, if that was who he would have to face. What Aroron did know, was when the time came, he might not have a choice.

  Aroron hadn’t gone much further after the bells had started to ring, when he heard heavy footsteps following close behind him. He knew without a doubt that they were there for him, and their pounding steps mixed with the sound of his beating heart.

  It was obvious now that Enrick had more control of the city than the royal family did. Telarian wouldn’t turn on him like this… would he? Doubt entered Aroron's mind, after all, hadn’t he told the king he didn’t want to be his High Commander? And that he planned on leaving Shey the next day?

  If Telarian had turned on him, Aroron really had no hope. The king knew about Ingram’s blacksmith shop and he might tell Enrick about it, or at least his men. He’d have to pray he wouldn’t do such a thing to Aroron. Not after everything they’d been through together.

  Aroron ran around a corner too fast and he slipped on a puddle of rainwater. He slid around and slammed into the wall.

  Shoving himself off the wall, he continued his run. He jumped over a crate and ran around another corner. But slowly, the lamps that lined the streets of the city, were put out. The guards knew that it would be harder for him to run in the darkness. Even the moon seemed to be on their side, as it slipped behind a cloud.

  But Aroron wasn't going to give himself up, just because it was getting dark!

  He still didn’t like the dark, but he’d stopped believing in the boogyman a long time ago. Too bad the monsters in his life and his nightmares were real.

  What neither Enrick nor the Shenockiens knew was, Aroron was quite good at seeing in the dark. He just didn’t like using the gift, since it meant going out in the darkness. But right then he had no choice.

  He'd learned a lot in his short life, and he wasn't going to give up without a fight. He wasn't even quite sure what was going on, but he knew whatever Enrick was planning, it wasn't good. He’d already taken control of Shenock, which kingdom was next?

  Aroron quickly turned down one of the side streets and pulled himself up over a wood fence and landed on the other side, with a light ‘thud’ he hoped no one else heard. He stood up and looked around. Now this was somewhere he remembered! He was just around the corner from the blacksmith’s shop and so far, he hadn’t heard any more sound of pursuit.

  Turning around the corner, Aroron ran forwards and found himself in front of the shop's door. A familiar, but strangely unpleasant sight.

  "Sorry," Aroron mumbled under his breath, bringing his hand up to knock on the door. He pounded as hard as he dared against it, but with no response. It was late, and by the darkened window, it looked as if Ingram was already in bed. Was he sleeping so soundly, he couldn't hear Aroron?

  He groaned, took a step
back from the door and ran his hand through his hair. What was he going to do? Aroron didn’t have time to waste waiting to see if the blacksmith would wake on his own.

  “Sorry about this too.” He said, bringing his foot up. Aroron kicked at the door, using his weight to smash into it.

  The door snapped free from its lock in a loud clatter, that was sure to attract attention. But for the moment, Aroron didn't care. The door swung open and he hurried inside. He shoved a chair against the now closed door, and moved deeper into the blacksmith’s shop, towards where Ingram slept.

  “Ingram!” he called, opening the door into the bedroom.

  "What's going on?" Ingram asked, quickly climbing out of bed as Aroron entered. Then he heard the city bells tolling. "The bells, they're for you." It wasn't a question and they both knew it. "And you came back here… why?"

  “I’m sorry to drag you into this, but I had nowhere else to go.” Aroron whispered.

  He jumped, when someone pounded against the blacksmith’s shop's front door. "Open up, by order of the king!" the man yelled.

  "Telarian!" Aroron growled. "Maybe I shouldn't have saved his life at that feast."

  "Don't talk like that and get out of here!" Ingram ordered. "I may not know everything that's going on, but I know enough.”

  “It was selfish of me to even come here!” Aroron said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What’s done, is done.” Ingram said, looking at Aroron closely. “I’ve always known there was something different about you. I guess I’ll never know what. Now go. I'll keep them occupied while you get as far away from here as you can."

  “I can’t go with my sword.” Aroron said, untying it from around his waist. “They mustn’t get hold of this. Is there somewhere here you could keep it for me?”

  "Yes, this way," Ingram said, leading him back out into the main room. "I’ll kept it safe for you here." he said, moving over to a metal box. He knelt in front of it, slid a key into the lock and opened it. Inside, wrapped tightly in a soft cloth, Ingram placed Aroron's sword. “Here.” He said, handing Aroron the key. “It’s the only copy, so you’re the only one who can open it.” Ingram said. “Now get yourself out of here, before that impatient guard breaks the door open.”