by Scott Baron
“Continuity of rule is of utmost importance. The people suffer without it. Whoever winds up wearing the crown, it is imperative there is no vacancy of the office of king. Otherwise, chaos would reign.”
“A little apocalyptic there, captain. But I appreciate the sentiment. And you’re right. The people deserve stability in their lives. Now let’s go see how things are working out for my subjects, starting with one in particular.”
They made the ride to the farmer’s land in good time, the sun still high in the sky, the day comfortable and clear. Several weeks had passed since Charlie had come upon the tax collector and his muscle harassing the poor man, and the transformation of both the fields as well as their owner was noticeable.
The crops that had been laying fallow were either harvested or cut back and replanted anew. The formerly unplowed fields now possessed neat and orderly rows of sprouting plants. And surprisingly, the farmer himself was almost radiant with happiness, his color returned to a healthy flush. His cheeks had filled out a bit as well, Charlie noted.
“Sire! It is a pleasure to have you visit my farm again!”
“You seem to be doing well.”
“Aye, Sire. The rations you had delivered were a Godsend, they were. Helped us regain our strength and prepare for the hard labor ahead. And with Clay’s help, we’ve been able to get even more work done than when my son and ox were both here. The man is a marvel of nature, he is.”
“So it goes well, then. He is performing his tasks without complaint?”
“Complaint? Hardly, Sire. Of course, he was not thrilled about it for the first few days, but then he discovered he had a natural gift for it, and has been greatly productive ever since. There he is, over in the field. Clay! Clay! Come greet the king!” he called out.
“You really don’t have to––“
“Oh, but Sire. I’m sure he wishes to thank you for the opportunity.”
The enormous man stood up tall in the field. Even from a distance, Charlie could see his changed countenance. Gone was the glowering heavy out to hurt at his master’s command, replaced by a free, contended man, putting in an honest day’s work.
His muscles, Charlie noted, were also growing larger and more defined. While his natural strength was suitable for the tax collector’s needs, working in the fields had given them the impetus to grow even stronger. He waved pleasantly as he made his way from the field toward the others.
“And how are your finances?” Charlie asked. “Are things getting back on the right track?”
“Ah, Sire. I will have the taxes ready for you first thing in the––“
“No, no, that’s not what I was getting at. I want you to take your time and build a safety net for yourself should you fall on hard times again. There is enough wealth in the kingdom for all, and over taxation, especially of one who works as hard and honestly as you, would be foolish. I was merely inquiring to see if you still needed additional support or if you were self-sustaining now.”
“Most generous, Sire. Most kind! And to answer your question, we are not only self-sustaining, but are beginning to have a surplus to sell once more.”
“Good. Then keep doing what you are doing. When you have stabilized your situation, then we will discuss resuming taxes.”
“Sire,” Clay said, dropping to one knee upon arriving in the presence of his king.
Even lowered in such a manner, he was still a giant of a man.
“Rise, Clay, and tell me how this new labor treats you. What I see appears to be a changed man, if I am not mistaken.”
The former thug smiled broadly. “Changed, aye, Sire. This labor, this life, it’s harder than working for tha tax collector, fer certain, but it’s so much more satisfying. I help things grow, now. And I’ve made new friends,” he said, putting his arm warmly around the man he’d been beating for his money only a few weeks prior.
“So, no lingering bad blood between you two?”
“Water under the bridge, Sire,” the farmer said. “Clay’s like a part of me family now. He’s a good man what were stuck in a bad job for a while, is all. Isn’t that right, Clay.”
“Aye.”
Charlie felt the warm glow of a job well done fill his body. His decisions had been hit and miss over his time as king, but this, he was quite certain, was a hit. He surveyed the fields once more and noticed the farmer’s eldest daughter watching them. Watching Clay, to be precise.
Ah, there’s more in the air than just hard labor, Charlie noted with a little grin.
“Well, then. We shall leave you to your labors. I am glad to see you in such changed and better conditions. All of you. May your improved fortunes continue,” he said, nudging his horse back to the road.
“Thankee, Sire, and God bless!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You what?” Bawb said, anger flaring in his eyes.
“I went for a walk. And don’t give me that, I know you sneak out from time to time as well.”
“Yes, but at night. And I’m a Wampeh Ghalian, Charlie. Master assassins, invisible to all.”
“Hey, I can be sneaky, too.”
“I’m sorry my friend, but while you may have greatly improved your techniques since I’ve known you, nevertheless, compared to me, you are like a toddler knocking blindly through a pile of dishes. No offense.”
“No offense? You can’t talk shit like that and just drop ‘No offense’ in there like it’s all good.”
“But you say it.”
“Yeah, but not like that. The way you do, it’s like it makes the insult almost worse.”
“That was not my intention, I assure you.”
“Well that’s how you come off, Bob. Like a dick.”
“Then I apologize for my ‘dick’ behavior. But we are straying from the point, here. Setting aside your foolish insistence on running around the countryside unprotected––“
“I have Ara.”
“When she happens to be nearby, yes. And you’re lucky for that. But had she not been present, what then? What if she were off hunting across the sea? Even she can’t be by your side at all times. You must be more cautious, Charlie. Especially now that we know with some degree of certainty that the realm’s borders are being tested.”
“You really think it was more than a random probe? Oh, hell, who am I kidding. They knew it was me they were attacking.” He paused a moment, mulling over the event now that he’d had time to process it. “Hang on. How exactly did they know it was me out there? I didn’t pass anyone on the trail, and the shimmer shield is masking the door.”
“Do you think we have a traitor in our midst?”
“I don’t know. You’re the subterfuge expert. Do we?”
Bawb furrowed his brow slightly. “Loyalties are hard to gauge here. Especially as you’ve taken the throne so very recently, and by such unusual and violent means.” He thought on it a long moment. “It is possible, yes.”
“Just fucking great,” Charlie groaned. “That’s what I need. To be watching my back inside as well as out.”
Bawb headed toward the door. “I should speak with the captain about this. See what he knows.”
“Okay, see if he’s heard anything new. Ara’s doing a sweep, so we should know if there’s anything out there when she gets back. We can regroup and go over it with the others at dinner.”
“Very well. I shall see you this evening,” the Wampeh said as he headed off on his fact-finding errand.
Captain Sheeran was slicing strips of leather with his faintly-glowing dagger when Bawb found him. The blade cut the tough hide easily, though the Wampeh’s trained eye could tell it was a mediocre enchantment at best.
“I see our king has bestowed one of his finest weapons upon you. I think you must have made quite an impression to warrant such a gift,” he said, playing to the man’s vanity.
“It’s amazing,” Sheeran said. “Cuts leather like it was nothing. And never dulls.”
“A useful weapon, indeed.”
&n
bsp; The captain fixed his gaze on the pale man. “What is it you want, Bawb? You’re not a man of action, so I assume you didn’t come to talk about knives.”
“Very astute of you. No, I have come with a concern. The king has informed me he encountered a band of ruffians on the trail earlier today. From his account, they appear to have possibly been scouts from a foreign army.”
“Yes, his Majesty already informed me of that. Damn fool thing he did, going out there alone like that.”
“On this, we are in agreement,” Bawb said with a disarmingly meek grin. “I feel it would be wise to perhaps do a little digging and see what we might find of our new intruders.”
“One step ahead of you. I’ve already sent my spies out to scout the area. We should hear back from them any day now. Just need to give them time to do their work.”
“Ah, I see. I’m glad you’ve dispatched men already. There were some rumblings among the men that people had been talking about forces mounting to test the kingdom’s borders.”
“And where did you hear this?” Sheeran asked, casually slicing yet another strip of leather.
“As I said, just talk among the men I happened to overhear in passing.”
“Can’t really trust what you’ve only heard part of.”
“Certainly, I agree with that sentiment. But one must heed all rumors, however far-fetched, when in positions such as ours, wouldn’t you agree, captain?”
“In this case, yes. And the rumors were a bit more substantial than what you overheard. There’s talk of forces mounting, possibly a new player in this game come to challenge the king. There’s even talk a nearby realm has a mighty wizard among them.”
“Oh?”
“Aye.”
“Well, if need be, I have some small abilities of my own, should they be needed,” Bawb said, suppressing a chuckle.
“You’re no wizard.”
“Oh, heavens, no. But most who claim to be are nothing more than tricksters, and I’ve acquired a few novel skills in my many years of service. Enough to perhaps help persuade a would-be wizard to seek out an easier target. But I hope that will not be necessary.”
“You? Going up against anyone in a fight? And a fake magic one at that? Now that I’d like to see,” the captain said with a laugh.
“Ideally that will not be the case, of course. I abhor the use of violence,” Bawb replied, maintaining his meek charade. “But tell me, Captain. What should we do while we wait for your spies to return?”
“Do? There’s nothing to do, especially after what happened today. I, for one, seriously doubt a full attack will ever happen. Once they saw the king’s dragon, well, I think you’d agree, only a fool would attack with such a beast on our side.”
“Of that we agree,” Bawb said, but nevertheless, an uneasy feeling was growing in his gut. He hadn’t survived as long as he had by ignoring it. “I should speak with the king on this matter,” he said.
“By all means. And Bawb, don’t worry. I’ll inform you when I hear something.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Sheeran merely nodded, his attention turned back to the glowing blade as he turned its edge on the tough hide once more.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Charlie wasn’t hard to find. Whenever he needed to mull over a particularly troublesome issue, he’d taken to sitting in the small storage room in the corridor just up the curved staircase from the kitchen. The smells of comfort food, combined with the muffling properties of the thick stone walls, made a sort of happy place for him.
It was an odd thing, he realized––a man who had been held prisoner, enslaved, now king, and willingly putting himself in a room not much larger than his old cell aboard the slave traders’ ship.
Much was afoot in his castle, and a clear head was needed if he hoped to not only survive, but do so in a ‘kingly’ way.
Traitors, he mused. In my own castle. It could be anyone.
He furrowed his brow, trying to narrow down the list of those who might turn on him. Or stay turned, having never actually come over to his side in the first place after he seized the throne.
But we don’t know for sure that anyone is working against me. I mean, how would they know when I was leaving when I didn’t know myself until I made the decision? And the door is hidden from all but Bawb, Leila, and me. It just doesn’t make any sense. But whatever it is, something isn’t right.
He nearly jumped when the door abruptly swung open.
“I thought I would find you here,” Bawb said.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, Bob. Knock next time.”
“Apologies. I had assumed your highly-attuned ninja hearing would have known I was there,” the assassin said with a sarcastic grin.
“I should never have told you about the ninjas,” Charlie groaned.
“Oh, it’s a most amusing tale. And admittedly, the basic tenets are sound. Stealth. Infiltration. Silent assassination. But the running across rooftops and throwing exploding packets of powder? While indeed a diversion, it seems a bit, well, primitive and unnecessary. An assassin––a true assassin––would not even need to run, let alone across a rooftop.”
“Well, duh. But shit happens, Bob. And when the shit hits the fan, you’d better run.”
“Your people are rather focused on fecal analogies, aren’t they? The fan one is new, though I can see the need to run in such a circumstance.”
Charlie shrugged off his friend’s ribbing. “Okay, so what’ve you heard?”
“I’ve spoken with Captain Sheeran. He has sent men to survey the region and expects them to return within a few days.”
“Days?”
“They’re moving slowly, blending in, not charging across the realm on horseback, Charlie.”
“Right, right. Sorry. I’m just a little wound up now that I’ve been thinking about it all. I mean, what if another kingdom really is trying to make a play? We’ve got Ara, but even so, I’d rather avoid a war.”
“Well, a Zomoki––sorry, a dragon––should deter most attempts. But the captain had other fruit from the rumor vines. Apparently, there is talk that there is a wizard of some sort residing in one of the nearby realms, though he has not yet verified the whispers.”
“A wizard? Not a chance. There is no such thing as magic on my world, Bob. And if there were, Ara would have sniffed them out by now.”
“True, though a magical assault would potentially––“ Bawb stopped abruptly. “Do you smell that?”
Charlie pushed the door open. Tendrils of smoke wafted into the small room.
“Shit! Fire! Are we under attack?”
Bawb slid a slaap onto his hand in one smooth motion and made for the door.
“I didn’t know you were packing heat.”
“After today? I thought it prudent.”
Charlie followed him down the stairs at a run, two at a time, drawing the small knife from his boot as they ran through the smoke, heading straight toward the commotion rather than away. It was what warriors did, and the duo were more than capable in that capacity.
Bawb shouldered the door open, no visible weapons in his hands––maintaining his illusion of meekness––but his arsenal of spells sat on the tip of his tongue, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice. He realized instantly what was happening, the slaap on his hand quickly disappeared into whatever hidden pocket he’d had it stored in.
Right behind him, Charlie, likewise, slid his knife back into his boot with one fluid motion.
Hunze, Leila, and the kitchen staff were buzzing about, frantically putting out a fire in the ovens, plumes of smoke billowing out in all directions. Thomas and the others had opened the doors and windows and were doing their best to fan the air clear.
“What in the world?” Charlie said, his adrenaline levels slowly dropping to normal.
“So sorry, Sire,” Thomas said. “We’ll have this cleared in no time. Just a little mishap, is all.”
“A mishap? Unusual for one as sea
soned as yourself, Thomas. No pun intended,” Bawb said.
Hunze’s cheeks were streaked, not only with soot, but also flour and shining rivulets of what appeared to be melted butter. A fiercely apologetic look clouded her face.
“I’m so sorry, Bawb. It’s all my fault. I didn’t mean to, it’s just I couldn’t get the temperature right, so I––“
“So the silly lass threw far too much wood into the mix, but failed to open the flue to let the air flow,” Thomas added. “But it happens. It’s how we learn, Hunze. No shame in that.”
“An honest mistake,” Leila added, staring at Charlie. “No harm, no foul, right?”
“Of course not. He’s right. These things happen. Not to worry,” he replied.
Thomas’ shoulders visibly relaxed, though his frantic fanning continued.
“So, I guess we’re adding the Cajun Blackened thing to the menu now?” Charlie joked.
“I was just trying to make you all something nice,” Hunze said. “I’ve been learning, and Thomas has been such a gracious teacher. It’s not his fault. I just can’t quite get the hang of it.”
“But Hunze, you really don’t have to do that,” Bawb said, gently wiping the flour from her face.
The tenderness of the action made Charlie pause a moment. It was still strange seeing his friend acting that way.
The deadly assassin had taken the Ootaki girl under his wing when he saved her life, and since that unlikely day, the two had grown ever closer. But so far as Charlie could tell, it seemed to be in a rather pure, and almost sweet way––though those weren’t words one would usually think to apply to the Wampeh.
“It’s not that I need to. I just wish to be of help. To bring you joy––“
“You do bring joy. You’re an important part of our––“
“No, Bawb. I mean a joy created by my hands. The joy of a good meal. I had never experienced such pleasures during my captivity, and now, here with you all, well, I want to be of use. I am so glad to at long last be valued for more than just my hair.”
“You are valued,” Bawb said, gently holding her shoulders. “But this does not mean you must resort to this type of labor, though the effort is noted, and is most certainly appreciated.”
