Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  “Which is why he makes such an excellent Captain Guard,” the queen interrupted as she strolled into the room, the short train of her green velvet dress following closely. “And the very reason he is the Queen’s Champion.”

  Alloria winked at Tyrell who shuffled aside and straightened his white tunic before bowing to Isabelle. Alloria curtsied as though she hadn’t just been standing too close and flirting outrageously with the older man.

  “I’ve heard Princess Victoria refer to a champion several times,” Alloria said, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “But I thought she meant it as a compliment and not a title.”

  The queen nodded to Tyrell, confirming he was free to discuss it as she took the throne.

  “It’s more than a title,” Tyrell stated in his most staunch prose. “It’s tradition, honor, and a privilege bestowed upon one person. The Queen’s Champion is a secret keeper, a defender, and an advisor. He, or she, must be willing to sacrifice everything to protect the crown, and Unsel. Very few are aware of this title.”

  “Victoria wants Angst to be her Champion,” Alloria said, sounding quite bored. She smiled slyly at the queen’s grimace then, with a gleam in her eye, she quickly added, “Could Tyrell be my Champion?”

  “I’m sure he would enjoy that,” Isabelle said dryly with a raised eyebrow.

  Alloria clapped quickly while Tyrell fought the urge to roll his eyes, smiling politely instead.

  “When it is time, you will know the right person to choose,” Tyrell said wisely, casting a knowing smile at the queen.

  “Please excuse us, Alloria. Tyrell and I have several things we need to discuss,” Isabelle commanded before Alloria could ask more questions.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the young woman said without hesitation. She curtsied, smiled at Tyrell, turned and strode out the room with regal confidence.

  The queen smiled as she watched her young understudy depart before turning a stern eye on Tyrell, who reeled back in surprise at Isabelle’s glare.

  “Your Majesty?” he asked in disbelief.

  “She’s a little young, don’t you think?” Isabelle asked, her voice quite sincere.

  “Well...I... no, it was nothing like that. I would never...”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” The queen smiled to herself. “Which is good, because I would hate to replace my Champion at this age.”

  “You know that won’t be necessary,” Tyrell said more firmly.

  Isabelle chuckled briefly. “You certainly seemed to be enjoying your conversation with her,” she said with a tight smile.

  “I can see why Angst enjoys them so much,” Tyrell said, looking at the door through which Alloria had exited.

  “What’s on our schedule today, Champion?” Isabelle asked, interrupting the Captain Guard’s distraction.

  “I have fifty ready men prepared to face the sinkhole monsters,” Tyrell replied. He stared at his tunic and removed a long brown hair. “They will ride on your command.”

  “Fifty?” Isabelle arched her back and squared her shoulders. “I thought we had agreed on one hundred.”

  “Well, after Rook’s report, I’m concerned that sending one hundred men means losing one hundred men.”

  The queen paused for a long moment, tapping a finger against her pursed lips. As she thought, Tyrell waited, staring at the green gem attached to that finger. He had known Isabelle for a very long time—long enough to wonder if this was for show. Not just the ring, or the tapping finger, but the very pause itself. He knew the answer, and wished at times that she would just be straightforward. But if that were the case, she wouldn’t be his queen, so he waited.

  “Do you think she will make a good queen?” Isabelle asked.

  “Your Majesty?” Tyrell frowned, cocking his head to one side.

  “Alloria,” she said dryly. “Do you believe she will make a good queen?”

  “Your Majesty has chosen her to be the heir. I’m certain you know—”

  “Oh, posh!” Isabelle spat. “Stop this nonsense, Tyrell. Since when haven’t you spoken your mind to me?”

  “Since you’ve stopped listening to reason. My reason,” Tyrell snapped. He took a deep breath. “Your daughter should be queen when you are done. Victoria is bright and capable, and her abilities will give her an edge no other ruler has possessed. When she returns, she will be wiser and more ready than when she left.” Tyrell paused for a reinforcing breath. “While I’m at it, we shouldn’t be sending a single solder to the sinkholes. The team of magic-wielders that defended Unsel during the last crisis would be better suited for this situation. I feel we are sending men to the battlefield naked.”

  “Thank you, Tyrell,” Isabelle said with a wave that dismissed almost all of his concerns. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I believe she is manipulative, calculating, and too forward,” Tyrell said, placing his hands behind his back. “While Alloria is very young, I would not care to wager with her in a game of roobles. I’m afraid I would lose my pants, as they say.”

  “Literally?” the queen asked then laughed at Tyrell’s surprised look.

  “My concern is that I don’t believe in coincidence,” Tyrell said with great sincerity. “That she is the only survivor of Cliffview, and it coincides with Victoria’s departure? It is too much coincidence for my palate, Your Majesty.”

  Isabelle stared at her Champion for several minutes. Analyzing his long nose, strong jaw and short gray hair. Like a statue, he did not waver under inspection—as though he expected the occasional on-the-spot review.

  “Send one hundred men,” Isabelle commanded heavily. “There will be losses, but the crown needs a win, Tyrell. A win without magic-wielders. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Tyrell replied, his face stony. “As you wish.”

  “See them off. And send a flag boy bearing my gold and green with them. I want them to know they carry the hopes of Unsel,” she stated solemnly. “Do this now, and when you return we will discuss Alloria’s coronation.”

  Tyrell did not depart.

  “Did I misspeak?” the queen asked sharply.

  “Several visitors have arrived within the last twenty-four hours, Your Majesty,” Tyrell answered. “Representatives from Rohjek and Melkier, unique-looking guests who say they are from Meldusia, a Nordruaut woman, and several Fulk’hans.”

  “I was expecting ambassadors from Rohjek and Melkier,” Isabelle stated with a concerned look on her face. “But the others... What do they all want?”

  “They are requesting help from Unsel,” Tyrell said. “Specifically asking after your team of magic-wielders, and Angst. It seems troubles abound in all corners of Ehrde.”

  “The Fulk’hans want Angst’s help?” Isabelle asked in surprise.

  “Well, not unless by help you mean Angst’s head,” Tyrell replied with raised eyebrows.

  “Can we provide that?” Isabelle asked hopefully.

  “I don’t believe so, Your Majesty. Not if he is to be a Champion,” Tyrell said, smiling to himself at the queen’s grimace. “The Fulk’hans. have changed. They are quite formidable, and angry. I would advise keeping a watch on them at all times.”

  “Please see to that,” the queen replied, suddenly looking tired. “The Meldusians look unique now? More than before?”

  “It seems the Fulk’hans weren’t the only peoples affected by the Vex’kvette.”

  27

  The town was small and tidy, tucked away in a grove of snowy fir trees. There were no signs of angry statues, burning pyres, or malevolent hot springs. A collective sigh went up from the group, quickly followed by relaxed shoulders. The inn, located in the center of town, was large and well-tended. A neat stone path framed by hibernating bushes beckoned weary travelers to the entrance.

  “Are you sure you want to stop already?” Dallow asked Hector while avoiding looks from Angst.

  “Are you really asking?” Hector asked dubiously. “Have you seen him? His swifen? Is Angst holding on
to his ram or is the prin...is Tori keeping him upright?”

  “What? I’m fine,” Angst snapped from over Victoria’s shoulder. “Just a little tired. We can keep going.”

  Angst felt like the bottom of a shoe, or his swifen’s hoof. His silver ram swifen was now so far beyond repair it was impossible to keep track of its deterioration. The metal plates holding the swifen together now curled from almost every corner.

  Tori looked pleadingly at Hector, who nodded in agreement.

  “This is perfect,” Victoria proclaimed. “I need a bath, now!”

  “Tori, I’m sure we could make it to the next town before nightfall,” Angst implored.

  “You promised!” She pulled at a strand of curly blond hair, now matted with mud and soot. “They have baths here?”

  “Yes,” Hector said. In answer to Angst’s frustrated gaze, he quickly continued, “I’ve stayed here before. They do have a bath, and there isn’t another one to be found for several more towns.”

  “This is the most bathing I’ve seen someone do in my entire life,” Dallow mumbled to himself.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Tarness said with an obnoxious grin.

  “If this is where you want to stay, then by all means,” Angst said to Victoria with a tired sigh.

  He wouldn’t let the others know, but he was relieved. A warm meal, some mead, and an actual bed would help him get past the new bout of emptiness consuming him. Everything was sore, and helping Victoria dismount without being cut by his own swifen made his back twinge. His right shoulder popped loudly, making him jerk his hand back after she reached solid ground. He sat for a moment, contemplating the best way to dismount when he finally decided to take an easier route. The ram disappeared beneath him. Angst landed with a thud, straddling the travel packs that had been secured to his swifen’s side and belly.

  “Clever,” Dallow acknowledged with a smile.

  “We should’ve dismissed the swifen earlier,” Hector remembered. “Magic is completely outlawed in Melkier.”

  “I have several documents from ‘Izzy’ that should prove useful if that becomes an issue,” Angst said, digging through various pockets to find the right one.

  “Just be cautious,” Hector said with concern. “They aren’t like us.”

  “I’d be careful about calling mom ‘Izzy,’” Victoria said in a similar tone.

  “But of course, Your—” Angst’s mock-formal bow was cut off when a burly woman opened the inn door.

  “You wanting to stay here?” she asked with a hairy raised lip. “I’m not sure we have rooms.”

  The woman was not even handsome. She was as wide as Tarness but the same height as Angst, essentially making her a very solid-looking square. Her skin was dark, and her gray hair curled short and tight against her skull. She scowled at Angst as he approached. He pulled his coin purse free and shook it several times to present its volume.

  “We would love your company, lords and lady,” she now said with a pained smile and one eye on his purse. It was as though Angst had paid for a bad performance. “Come in, come in.”

  They followed her into the dimly lit inn, which felt warm and oily. The smell of cooking grease, burnt meat, and stale mead hung in the air. Victoria visibly winced at the stench, while Tarness smile widened in anticipation.

  He breathed in deeply. “Bar food,” the large man whispered. “I can’t wait!”

  “We’ll need three rooms, please,” Hector requested politely.

  Victoria’s nod was as friendly as she could force it to be. Angst nudged her with his shoulder, and she nudged him back and smiled. In spite of his exhaustion, and her demands, Angst was glad she was with them and winked fondly as the innkeeper dug through a drawer. Eventually, the unfortunate-looking woman handed a key to Hector and another to Tarness. She held out the third key, offering it first to Angst then to Victoria.

  “This is for you two,” she said with a sneer, waiting for one of them to take it.

  “Um, no. We need separate rooms,” Angst said in concern.

  “Oh? You could have fooled me,” the woman huffed. “She isn’t your honey?”

  “No, she’s...” He looked at the guys to find them thoroughly enjoying Angst’s fretting. “She’s my niece.”

  “Right,” she said, handing the key to Victoria. “Do you want your uncle to have a spare key?”

  “It’s my understanding you have a bath?” Victoria asked, changing the subject. She pulled two gold coins from a pocket.

  “Oh!” the woman squealed. It was more than the combined cost of the rooms, and she gripped the coins greedily. “I’ll have my daughter, Hedrynn, start up the kiln. Would milady be wanting fresh water?”

  “Yes, please,” Victoria said, worried that it was even a question.

  She gripped Angst’s cloak tight, and he could tell her courtesy required every ounce of resolve.

  “But when he takes his bath he won’t require fresh water,” Victoria said nodding toward Angst at the same time informing him that he, too, was taking a bath.

  “You’re with me, uncle,” Tarness said to Angst.

  Victoria and Angst sighed in unison as everyone else laughed, including the innkeeper. Angst picked up Tori’s things and followed her to the stairs.

  “Dinner is in an hour, and entertainment’s in two,” the innkeeper called after them.

  “Entertainment?” Victoria asked with a smile and sidelong look at Angst.

  “Yes, a local bard,” she said. “He’s not very good, but he’ll sing all night for some coin.”

  Angst smiled broadly at Victoria, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Victoria smiled back and let out a little squeal before running up the stairs to get ready.

  Hector grumbled in frustration, and was about to say something when he noticed Tarness smiling.

  “What?” Tarness said defensively. “It sounds like fun.”

  “I thought Angst needed rest,” Dallow said, discouraged.

  Tarness rested his hand on Dallow’s shoulder. His voice was deep and serious. “Everyone finds relaxation in different ways, my friend. You’ll see. Angst will be a new man come morning.”

  “What about my rest?” Dallow asked.

  The bard became more talented with every gulp of mead. His singing was fair at best, but he wielded the kendagar—a complicated ensemble of instruments that never ceased to amaze—better than Angst had once swung Chryslaenor. He would blow into the horn attached to his left hand between refrains, blaring in time with the staccato rhythms of his right. The bard held a small piece of metal attached to the palm of his right hand which he slapped somewhat spasmodically against blocks of wood, pieces of ceramic, or rubbed against his corrugated plate chest piece, making for an entertaining racket that sometimes sounded like music.

  Hector’s sensitive ears sent him upstairs after the first round of drinks, while Dallow lasted for two full drinks, seeming utterly fascinated by the bard’s presentation and rhythm. Still, he quickly gave in to travel and mead and, after a warning, fatherly look that told Angst he too should go to bed, left for his room. Tarness didn’t seem to enjoy the music at all, but still waited patiently.

  Most of the tables in the generously-sized room had been pushed together for some unknown reason. Locals and travelers sat around the tables, clapping in time with the bard’s music, but everyone turned as Victoria entered the room. Angst had never seen the dress she wore before. It was low cut, and showed more breast than he was comfortable looking at. The white silken cloth was light, flowing with every step. The dress also featured a high-cut slit, which exposed enough leg that Angst had to take another draw of mead.

  The innkeeper’s daughter, Hedrynn, followed Victoria. She wore a low cut peasant blouse, tight black leggings and thigh-high leather boots. The young woman was about the same age as Rose, and thinner, but without the curves. She was not exceptionally pretty, but her confidence was contagious and Angst couldn’t help but smile at the young woman’s
dramatic entrance. Her mother rolled her eyes as Hedrynn swaggered in, but said nothing.

  For the first time since the music began, Tarness smiled in anticipation, almost as much as Victoria. Tori clapped in excitement when Hedrynn flipped a coin to the old bard. He winked knowingly and changed tunes to play another something Angst had never heard. The song moved at a dizzyingly fast pace, and Angst was clueless how the man was able to keep up with so many instruments.

  Victoria had finished her third mug of mead and waved for another while sipping on Angst’s. Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes looked drunkenly sleepy. She handed Angst his drink and proceeded to magically twist her hair into a ponytail the way girls did. The music continued to improve as Angst drank more. Hedrynn climbed onto the conglomeration of tables and beckoned for Tori. The young princess squealed, hopped up from her seat, and joined her new friend for the dance.

  Angst was dumbfounded at how quickly Tori was able to emulate the other girl. They gyrated in unison, swinging their hips hither and fro in time with the beat, which Angst found himself attempting to mimic from his seated position as he slapped the table with his hand, almost in time with the song. Someone tapped his shoulder.

  “Where did the princess learn to dance like that?” Tarness asked, his low voice surprisingly audible in the loud room.

  Victoria and Hedrynn paused long enough to take steins of mead from a slack-jawed serving boy. The girls interlocked arms and chugged their drinks, staring at each other in challenge to see who would quit early. Neither did, and they handed the empty mugs back to the boy to continue with their captivating dance.

  Angst looked at Tarness, who nodded at him briefly before staring at Hedrynn again. His friend was almost drooling. Angst waved at the serving boy, who hustled over. He held up four fingers and tossed the boy a coin, which sent the young man scurrying off with a smile. He returned quickly with four large steins of the cheap mead then proceeded to hover nearby, ready at a moment’s notice for more mead and more coin.