The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Not exactly. I know some people died—that was when Gandhi fasted. He refused to do anything and starved himself unless people were nonviolent.”

  “And they did. He held his life over the heads of his people. Magnificent.”

  Flos shook his head, eyes alight with wonder.

  “There were deaths. I understand. It is a consequence of leading that not all obey. But still. To do such a thing—”

  He broke off. Flos had to pace around the room in his excitement.

  “I am moved. I am in awe. I would like to see if I might do the same. To do what he did. But…no. Perhaps it is not the time. This British empire, your land’s rulers…they gave in because they cared that they did wrong. I regret to say that if this Mahatma Gandhi were to appear before me, he would not succeed in his quest.”

  He drooped. Trey and Teres stared at him.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  Flos shrugged.

  “Were such a man, a [Pacifist] or…no, his very name is the class, is it not? A [Mahatma]. If such a one were to appear before me, well…I would like to imagine that my people would never be so dissatisfied with my rule as to rise up. If such a person appeared before me, I believe I would be able to find some common ground. But if not, if words failed and such an opponent were to send my kingdom into turmoil, I would remove him.”

  Chilling words. Trey could barely bring himself to ask.

  “How?”

  Flos did not immediately answer.

  “There are many ways to stop such a man. I could lock him away, not for years or decades, but forever. I could send him to a far continent. Kill him? No. I would not do that. But the problem with this brave soul is that he can only exist in your world. In a place where empires and nations care for notions like morality. Were he to come here, most [Kings] would execute him on the spot. And I…would not let his rebellion pass either.”

  Trey felt a shiver run down his spine. There was a grim, sad look on Flos’ face. He remembered something he’d heard once, something that had been said of Gandhi. Even he would not have known how to stop Hitler. Or was it that even he would have failed? Trey couldn’t remember what he had been told, but the thought bothered him greatly.

  Flos noticed. He always seemed to notice when Trey bit his lip, or shifted.

  “What have you thought of, Trey?”

  The boy coughed.

  “N-nothing.”

  “Ah. You do not wish to tell me. Which must mean what you are concealing is important indeed. Speak…please.”

  For a little while Trey resisted. But then he told Flos.

  “So I remind you of a man named Hitler in some ways, do I? Who was he?”

  Teres looked at Trey. He nodded, and she took a breath and looked Flos right in the eye.

  “He was probably the most vile, evil man who ever lived.”

  He didn’t react to the implication. He only nodded, and settled back in his chair. He was no longer smiling. Now he was listening intently.

  “All the more reason to tell me, then. What did he do?”

  They told him about World War II. They told him about Hitler, about Nazis, and what had started it all, the Great War and its consequences. Flos listened silently, unmoved by all of it. He had seen worse. But he shifted when they told him about what had happened to the Jews. And then they talked of the worst of it, the concentration camps, the gas chambers, and the rest, he grew very still.

  When it was over, they waited for him to speak. Flos’ head was bowed, and when he raised it, there were tears in his eyes. But he said only one thing that made Trey very afraid.

  “From what you have said, I must call this man Hitler a great leader.”

  He held up a hand as Teres leapt to her feet.

  “Listen. A great leader, and a poor thing not worthy to be called a man. That is what he was.”

  Slowly, Teres sat down. Flos stood up, and turned his back to stare out of the window.

  “Hitler. There is a name that rings throughout your world. Understand me, Teres, Trey. Yes, I admire this man Hitler as a leader. I reject his ideals, his beliefs, and the empire he created and the things he did. But he commanded the hearts of a nation and forged a defeated people into a blade that sought the throat of the world. He created darkness I had not dreamt of. He tried to kill an entire people. How can such a man not be worthy of praise, damning though it may be? And yet. He was no [King]. And he was not worthy of such a title.”

  He left it at that. Slowly, the conversation moved to other things. Flos was nearly in tears when the conversation went back to Gandhi, and they told him how he had died, assassinated in cold blood.

  “These guns of yours…you speak of them and I find myself less enamored with the thought of them with each passing moment. One slew a man of peace, Gandhi. They are no proper weapon. They have brought low your world.”

  It was hard to argue against that, though Teres did try, if only to explain to Flos how dangerous guns were compared to swords. But he was against them with all his heart.

  “If any leader can be killed by a fool with a second of training, how can your world have heroes? How can people look up to those who would inspire them, when they are as vulnerable as the next person to a weapon which kills in an instant? How can children sleep safe at night, when they know their lives may be snatched away in a second?”

  “You could do that with a sword!”

  “But a sword does not reach out and kill people. Arrows do that, but a child cannot hide a bow and use it in a moment. I cannot hide a crossbow so easily. And in this world, a fool cannot so easily snuff out hope in a single moment.”

  He looked away from Teres, who had no reply, and at Trey.

  “The world must have heroes, Trey. It must have leaders, and men and women to shake the hearts of many. Guns are a foolish thing. I am only grateful that they might be overcome if they were to spread to my world.”

  “How?”

  It was inconceivable for Trey to imagine knights or men with swords trying to fight an army with machine guns. But Flos seemed confident, even dismissive.

  “I can think of two ways I might easily defeat an army armed with…guns.”

  His nonchalance enraged Teres.

  “What about a battalion of tanks and fighter jets? Or a nuke?”

  They had to explain again what all three things were to Flos. But when he understood, he just shook his head.

  “There are ways. If you world has no magic, these weapons are fearsome, but not insurmountable. Such an army could slay a thousand conventional armies, I will admit, but I wonder how Amerys would do against such a force. If it came to it, I could devise a method to catch a ‘jet’ capable of flying through the air ten times faster than Takahatres. The same goes for the armor of your tanks, or defeating these bullets.”

  He would not elaborate in detail, no matter how the twins pestered him.

  “This world will not bow so easily if yours seeks to challenge us. I promise you that. But enough. If it comes to it, I shall see the terrible weapons of your world with my own two eyes. In the meantime, I have indulged my interests too long. Thank you for talking with me, Teres, Trey. Now, it is time to talk to Orthenon. Alas.”

  They jumped in surprise, because a moment after Flos said that, someone rapped urgently on the door.

  “Enter.”

  A servant appeared, with a request to meet Orthenon in the throne room at once. A reply had come from one of the cities. Flos was out the door and striding down the corridor before Trey and Teres could hurry after him. Trey grabbed a handful of Yorkshire puddings as he left.

  When they got to the throne room, Flos was already seated on his throne. Nervously, the twins edged into the room, but the others greeted them warmly. Orthenon blinked at the Yorkshire pudding Teres offered him, but he took it readily enough.

  “What news, my steward?”

  Flos regally dipped a Yorkshire pudding into the gravy that a servant had brought. Mars was already chewi
ng down her third pudding as Orthenon straigtened and spoke.

  “They have denied your return, my King.”

  “As expected.”

  Flos sighed. But Orthenon wasn’t done.

  “That is the official response. The messenger I sent was not allowed anywhere in the city, no doubt to prevent rumors spreading. And she was escorted a good distance away from the city before being released. However, she encountered a [Trader] on the road. No doubt he and other travellers are silenced under threat from speaking when entering the city, but he was able to give her a clearer image of the situation Rast faces.”

  The way he spoke made it plain that there was a problem. Flos sat up on his throne, food forgotten.

  “Tell me.”

  “The city is destitute, my King. The [Trader] received offers from the ruling [Mayor] to exchange his wares for promises made against future payment, but refused. As he was part of the larger network of [Merchants] his goods were not taken, but he had to fend off [Thieves] along his entire trip. He was fearful of being ambushed despite the presence of his guards. What was more, not all of the thieves were [Thieves].”

  It took Trey a moment to figure that out. But Flos had understood at once.

  “The people are hungry?”

  Orthenon nodded. He looked grim.

  “They are not starving yet. But there is little trade, and the crop harvest have been bad again this year. Few cities or villages are doing well. You could say Lord Venith’s lands are an exception to that rule, but it is only through his hard work his people have prospered.”

  “And mine.”

  Maresar looked pointedly at Orthenon. He bowed his head.

  “My deepest apologies, Lady Maresar. You and your husband have been successful where few else have. In this case, the city of Rast is not dying of famine, but they are desperate and fearful of the future.”

  “And the homeless and poor do starve. Is that not so, Orthenon?”

  The steward didn’t reply. Flos’ head bowed.

  “Where the average man goes without, the poor man dies. That is how it has always been. You do not need to tell me it is so.”

  He stared down at the Yorkshire pudding in his hand and made as if to crush it. Then Flos stared at it and ate it in one bite. Orthenon turned his head, and the servants carrying the food instantly retreated out of the room.

  “Hold. Distribute that among the others with my blessings. I know you would have already, but I ask you yourselves to try some. They are quite good.”

  Flos’ words made the servants turn. He smiled at them, and they bowed or curtsied before leaving. Then he lost his smile and looked back at the others.

  “It is my fault.”

  Mars opened her mouth as if to protest, but she stopped. No one else had spoken. Flos nodded as he looked at the twins.

  “My fault. You see, Trey, Teres, I once ruled these lands.”

  Trey didn’t see the connection, and Flos noticed. He looked tired as he explained.

  “I took these lands by force and claimed their people as my own. After my kingdom fell to pieces, some lands were absorbed by other kingdoms, or became independent. Those who swore themselves to other [Queens] or [Kings] survived. But other lands failed. Because I, their [King], had abandoned them, abandoned my throne. And as the [King] fades, so too does the land.”

  That was like a legend too. Trey tried to imagine it. If the [King] was healthy, the land was bountiful? Was that like King Arthur? He couldn’t exactly remember any tale like that. But then Trey had a thought. What if the [King] died? Did the land die? Or…

  “If the issue is that my King, why not declare war? We could feed them with our supplies, surely.”

  Mars offered the idea to Flos hopefully, a hand on her sword’s hilt. But Flos only shook his head.

  “I will not declare war. Not now.”

  Mars opened her mouth. Flos looked up.

  “No war, Mars. I have no cause for it, no reason.”

  “But your people are hungry. Surely that—”

  “They have been hungry for a long time. Why should I care now? No. I care with every part of my heart, but it is not enough of a reason.”

  Flos stood from his throne. He stepped down from the dais and paced back and forth in front of his vassals.

  “I have not heard them cry out for my aid. I have not received supplication, nor seen the failure of their rulers for my own two eyes. I will not march my armies on a thought, any more than I would declare war against a nation without just cause.”

  “Then you won’t fight?”

  Maresar asked the question quietly. Flos looked at her.

  “I would declare war for a child. I would burn a country to ash to avenge a fallen comrade. But I would never declare war for petty things like land or coin or treasure. A [King] should wage war for his desires, yes, but never for greed. And despite my feelings, that is how I view a war to take back my lands. They have other rulers. To take it is greed at this moment. It is a fine line. But I will not cross it.”

  His vassals looked at him, some resigned, others nodding. Flos sighed. He clenched his fist, so hard Trey thought—

  “Yet they are dying.”

  Something red ran from his hands. It dripped onto the ground and Gazi made a small noise. It sounded like pain. Orthenon started towards Flos. The King blinked, looked down. He saw the blood from where his fingernails had pierced his skin. He waved Orthenon away.

  “I am fine.”

  For a second Flos stared at the blood that had dripped onto the floor. Then he looked at his hand. He gritted his teeth, and then something changed. His head slowly turned. He looked at Trey and Teres. And then he grinned in sudden delight.

  The change had caught everyone by surprise. Mars blinked and Orthenon stared curiously at his King. Maresar was watching him, but Gazi suddenly smiled again. She stared at Trey and Teres, and as the boy met one of her eyes, he saw her smiling at him. As if she’d realized something at the same time as Flos. And her smile looked genuine. It was actually not a half bad smile.

  Flos tapped a finger to his lips thoughtfully, ignoring the blood. He stared at Trey and Teres, who began to have a very bad feeling, but it wasn’t they who he spoke to. He turned.

  “Orthenon?”

  The man stood straight, clearly ready for anything. His eyes were fixed on Flos, expectant. There was a hush in the room, a waiting. A wanting.

  “Yes, my King?”

  “I am going for a walk. It will settle my mind, and perhaps the issue of this city. Orthenon would you see to provisions for lunch and perhaps dinner?”

  Orthenon stared at him. The twins stared at him. But Flos was suddenly smiling. Orthenon chose his words carefully.

  “A walk…my King? Now?”

  “Yes, I desire it. It will do me some good. Teres and Trey will come with me of course, but you are free to join me, my [Steward]. You too, Mars. Gazi. And Lady Maresar, your company would be welcome. A walk will do me good.”

  “For the entire day?”

  “Mm.”

  Flos nodded. Then he beckoned to Trey, who found himself already walking with Teres towards him. Flos began strolling out of the throne room. It took his vassals a moment to react.

  “My King, are you going now?”

  “Your majesty—”

  “Don’t fuss, Ortheon. Come if you are coming. Teres, Trey, let us walk and talk. This is a fine opportunity to talk some more, is it not? This way, out of the palace.”

  He led them at a brisk walk out of the palace. Trey and Teres hurried after him, and they heard Orthenon shouting behind them.

  The [Steward] didn’t follow them, but Mars, Gazi, and Maresar walked right next to Flos as he strolled out of the palace. People’s heads turned the instant they saw their King. They cheered him, but then paused when they saw who was following him.

  Three of his vassals? They called out questions, but Flos just bellowed the same reply.

  “I am walking! Would you care
to join us?”

  And what were they to say to that? Everyone in earshot immediately dropped what they were doing and began to follow their King. Trey and Teres stared. Within a hundred paces of his palace, Flos was already being followed by hundreds of people. And word was spreading like wildfire.

  “Um. Where are we going?”

  “Out of the city. But don’t mind the crowd. I am simply walking. Now, what were we talking about? Ah yes, heroes. Go on, tell me more stories.”

  Trey stared at Gazi, Mars, and Maresar, and about a thousand people now, most following at a distance, but a good lot of them staring at him. At him. He felt lightheaded, and Teres was walking so stiffly she looked like a robot.

  “Um. About who?”

  “Anyone. You mentioned figures of legend. Religious figures? Yes, you mentioned that when speaking to me about Gandhi.”

  “Who?”

  Flos shushed Mars as he looked at Trey. Trey gulped.

  “Religion. Yeah. Right. Well, there’s important—important people there all right.”

  “Such as?”

  “Uh…Jesus?”

  “Hmm. Not a name I have heard before. Explain him to me.”

  “Well…he’s Jesus. Jesus Christ. Jesus of Nazareth. Son of God. The Messiah. Emmanuel. Our savior. Uh—”

  Salvation came in a figurative sense when Trey spotted someone racing after them. As Flos walked out of the gates he saw figures on horseback riding after them. Orthenon leapt from his saddle as Flos glanced at him. The King never broke stride, as a group of horsemen slowed to keep pace with him.

  “You’re rather in a hurry, Orthenon. You could have caught up later. I am not walking that quickly.”

  “Apologies, my King. But I had to organize wagons to bring provisions for you and so many people.”

  Orthenon stared hard at Flos, but the King let the gaze slide right off him. He nodded genially, glancing at the riders with a frown.

  “My thanks. And a few wagons to carry some small snacks and perhaps a meal would not go amiss. But I must insist on no horses.”

  “No—”

  Orthenon nearly bit his tongue. Flos stared at him, pretending to look annoyed. But only pretending, Trey thought.

  “I am going for a walk, Orthenon. Horses rather spoil the idea. Send them away. I do not mind others coming, but it must be on foot.”