by Kody Boye
“Fuck a duck,” she groaned.
“I’m surprised you even know what a duck is,” the human man laughed.
“I’m not completely ignorant.”
“I never expected you to be,” the man said. He extended a hand to where it could be seen in Carmen’s peripheral and spread his fingers. “My name’s Alan. Alan Freeman if you want to know the whole name.”
“Carmen,” she replied, taking the man’s hand. “Delarosa.”
“Ah. The fabled drakeslayer finally graces the capital’s presence. Tell me—are you here to see the king?”
“How did you—”
“I imagined the king would like to speak to the newest hero of the kingdom eventually.” The man paused. “I take it you’ve not been to Dorenborough either, then? Judging by your down-turned expression?”
“I can’t see,” Carmen said.
“I shall accompany you then.” The man stooped just long enough for Carmen to see his pretty blue eyes. “Care to take my hand, my lady?”
“Anything to where I won’t have to look up. Or forward. Or anywhere other than up.”
The man laughed, took her hand, and began to lead her up the road.
As they walked, Carmen continued to try to allow her eyes to acclimate to the near-excruciating light shining down from above. Having not been in any source of sunlight since childhood, she’d forgotten its oppression—how, on a day like this, it could be hot and gentle; and how, in its intensity, it could pierce holes through your eyes if you stared at it for too long. Legends said that seers oftentimes went blind looking into the sun to seek from the heavens the words of their gods, but whether or not that was true Carmen couldn’t be sure. She’d taken one look up—and not even directly at the sun—and almost been blinded. She couldn’t imagine staring directly into the sun.
They passed what appeared to be vendor stalls, judging from foot traffic, with men selling wares and women taking into hands crinkling jewelery. Children pawed at their dresses, their pantlegs, held on leashes pigs that would one day grow into boars fit for nothing more than food. The city itself was bustling, to a point where she wished she could experience it in more detail, but she knew that would come in time. If she were to be stationed here—and become a member of the Watch, no less—she would have to get used to the sunlight.
Just not within a day, she thought, then bit her lip to keep from chuckling.
They stopped suddenly, as if barred passage by something ahead of them. It was at this point that Carmen reached down and fumbled at her belt for the scroll at her waist.
“Papers,” a woman’s voice said.
Carmen extended the parchment and waited for the woman to take it before withdrawing her hand. At this point, Alan removed his hand from hers, then leaned down and said, “Good luck.”
“You’re not leaving me,” Carmen said, “are you?”
“I’m afraid he can’t come with you any further than this point,” the soldier said, returning to Carmen the scroll of papyrus before placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman’s grip was firm, but gentle, as if she anticipated the potential injuries upon her shoulders. “You’ll be escorted from here by a butler, whom is being summoned as speak.”
“And is here now,” Alan said.
Carmen raised her head just enough to spot a well-dressed, clean-shaven and slick-haired Dwarven man approaching. “M’lady,” he said, extending a hand to take her own. “Would you please follow me?”
After reaching forward and taking the man’s hand, Carmen turned, said, “Thank you,” to Alan, then bid him goodbye before they continued forward.
Once the castle’s front doors opened, and once inside the gargantuan structure that would serve as her personal sanctuary, Carmen opened her eyes and was lit with majesty.
Along a red-and-gold embroidered rug they walked between walls that appeared to have been smelted in nothing short than the finest golds. Emblazoned upon their surfaces were arrows directing to various parts of the castle, and between them of portraits featuring great battles, fearsome monsters and points in history where previous kings had risen. They came to a junction to the hall where the current king’s portrait presided—tall, handsome even at an age of some six-hundred years old, and bearing upon his head a crown beneath which a mane of white hair flowed—before they turned into a side hall, then proceeded down a corridor guarded by a number of heavily-armed soldiers.
“This,” Carmen started, then stopped, almost unable to believe her eyes, “is…”
What? She thought. Beautiful? Outrageous? Stunning? Immaculate beyond measure and possibly bordering on the edge of unnecessary? She didn’t know what to call such a stupendous place, such a marvelous location, and though by suits of armor they passed bearing upon their pauldrons the most splendid of stones and on their swords the finest of metals, she felt a sense of majesty that she could’ve never anticipated.
She was in the presence of royalty—and, by presence, being treated as a royal guest. She should be feeling honored right now, not—
Cheated? she questioned.
So many lived in poverty, yet here in the lap of luxury a king sat, upon his iron throne around which would likely be a series of laurels crafted by the finest blacksmith. She’d never seen the throne—only heard of it—but knew it to be marvelous.
As they continued through the seemingly never-ending hall, Carmen raised her head and asked, “Is there anything I should know?”
“If the king speaks loudly, do not believe he is yelling. He is only just hard of hearing.”
“And for myself?”
“Speak loudly and boldly, but not rudely.”
They came to a single wooden door, flanked by which were two guards with giant swords that rested in grooves within the ground. “Lady Carmen Delarosa,” the butler said, “here to see the king.”
The guards turned, silent as stone, and knocked on the door twice with the back of their gauntlets.
The door opened.
A brilliant light began to shine through.
Carmen groaned, but realized shortly thereafter that it was just light streaming from a series of fireglass fireplaces along both sides of the room.
“Go,” the butler said.
So she did.
Once the door closed behind her, Carmen stepped forward, struggling to maintain her composure in what would soon be the face of such brilliance, and raised her eyes.
He sat upon his iron throne in regalia whose fortunes could only be proclaimed by the gems upon his robes and the gold upon his person. Tall, handsome, with a broad nose, high narrow cheekbones, fine thin lips and ebony eyes that struck honor into Carmen just by looking at him, King Oorin Dactieene, twenty-seventh in the line of the Dactieene family, raised his head and looked at her from beneath a pair of exquisitely-tended brows.
Here she stood before her king, and Carmen—stunned beyond compare—had no idea what to do.
With that knowledge in mind, she simply fell to one knee—and grimaced, as she realized, she’d descended to her bum knee.
“You are injured,” the king said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room with a power Carmen had not anticipated.
“My companions and myself were ambushed on the road on our way from Xandau,” Carmen replied, standing when the king lifted his hand to beckon her to her feet. “One of them didn’t make it.”
“Barris Matarius. Yes. I know his name.”
“You do?”
The king nodded. “I have sent his family an inheritance to ensure their safety throughout this time,” he said. “His remains will be accompanied by a armed caravan with a holy priest of the Hammer of Thor.”
“Thank you,” Carmen said, reaching up to brush a tear from her eye.
The king nodded and glanced down at her mace. “You are, undoubtedly, a remarkable woman, Carmen Delarosa. It is as if you were forged from the flames of hate after the most horrible of tragedies and allowed to fester within its madness until you were made to do
something outrageous. You are also kind, beautiful, good-natured and incredibly polite—and, from everything I’ve heard, an excellent warrior. My fifth division, Ignatius Armstrong, claimed you charged head-on into battle in order to protect your companions from an armed crossbowman. Is this true?”
“Yes sir,” Carmen replied.
“You are also brave,” the king replied. “Incredibly, incredibly brave. But also foolish. Your headstrong nature may one day lead to your demise should misfortune befall you.”
“I understand that, sir.”
“But I believe that to be a trait all warriors of a fine caliber have,” he continued. “They should be willing—through honor, glory and faith—to charge into the heat of battle without fear of death or injury in order to defend their rightful cause. That is what you possess, dear lady. And that is why I believe you are capable of great things.”
The king rose from his place in his massive throne—gilded with laurels, stone flowers, hammers and horns—and began to descend the steps that led up to them, his presence both intimidating and revering at the exact same time. He drew, from his side, a sword very short but unabashedly beautiful, and positioned it at his side. “Carmen Delarosa,” he said, raising, very gentle, the sword at his side, before extending it toward her right shoulder. “Please, bow to one knee, if you would be so kind.”
Carmen fell to her right, uninjured knee and bowed her head.
“By the great Gods Thor and Loki, Odin and Hel, and beneath the grace of Yggdrasil and the tides that guide Valhalla, I bring you into the fold—to honor, to defend, to live, and to breathe within, the King’s Watch.”
The king’s sword graced one shoulder, then the other, before it was returned to its sheath.
Carmen, so awestruck by what had occurred, could barely breathe.
This was it.
This was her next chapter.
She was now, officially, a member of the King’s Watch.
Had she not been in his royal presence, she would have cried. So instead, she stood, bowed at the waist, and said, “Thank you, my lord.”
There was little she could feel at that moment but pride.
Chapter 5
“How did it go?” Lindsey asked as Carmen approached her, Arrick and Timon’s place at the table.
Carmen wasn’t sure what to say at first. So shellshocked by the revelation that she could hardly speak, she remained quiet as she settled into the empty chair and then leaned forward when she found she couldn’t speak. Her mind was still processing, her thought processes working in overdrive. She—Carmen Delarosa, Daughter of Brutus and Madeline—had just become a member of the King’s Watch.
And all without showing my skills, she thought.
Though she hadn’t anticipated having to participate in armed combat—especially with the state of her body, much less her knee—she’d been required, by law, to make her way to the governor’s office and sign a five-year term of service that would not only secure her place within and as a member of the King’s Watch, but also exempt her from taxes upon her completion. Should you complete your term, the governor had said, as she signed on the single line, and should your performance have been deemed satisfactory, you will no longer have to pay taxes to the king or any of his people’s. You will be completely, and utterly, exempt.
It was a small wonder she hadn’t keeled over dead at that moment.
Tax-exempt? Just for serving in the army?
Not the army, she was quick to remind herself as she looked upon her friends. The King’s Watch.
Swallowing, Carmen took a deep breath, smiled, and said, “I’m in.”
Lindsey, Arrick and Timon howled
“YES!” Timon cried, thrusting his hand into the air. “YES! YES!”
“Congratulations,” Lindsey said, reaching across the table to take Carmen’s hand in her own. “That’s amazing.”
“Aye, lass,” Arrick said. “Congratulations. You’ve earned it for everything you’ve done.”
“Thank you, Arrick,” Carmen replied. “And thank you, Lindsey and Timon, for bringing me here. What will you do now that our journey has finished?”
“Return to Ehknac with the next major caravan,” Lindsey said. “Try and relax along the way. Hopefully not end up in any more skirmishes with bandits or skitters.”
“I’m fixing to retire,” Arrick replied. “This was my last major adventure for my life.”
“No,” Carmen said. “It can’t be.”
“I’m looking forward to going home, taking a nice long nap, then waking up next to the wife and playing with the grand-babies.”
“I didn’t know you were married,” Timon said. “You sure don’t seem like you are.”
“Just because I’m brash doesn’t mean I don’t have a soft side, lad.”
“I know. It’s just…” Timon trailed off before he could continue, which instantly prompted a laugh and a playful punch on the shoulder from Arrick.
“What about you?” Carmen asked, turning to look at Timon. “What’re you going to do now that this is all said and done?”
“Return to Ehknac, continue guarding the wall. Hope that nothing worse happens to me in the near future. Barris’ death hit me pretty hard.”
“It just shows you how fragile life is,” Lindsey said, “and how much you have to be thankful for.”
“And even if he was dying, he didn’t deserve to die like that.” Timon sighed, then lifted his drink. “To Barris, for helping us get to this point.”
“To Barris,” Carmen said with the group, lifting her hand due to the fact that she did not have a drink.
“And to Carmen,” Timon continued, turning his head to face her, “for overcoming the odds and doing something amazing for her life. I’m proud to call you a friend.”
“To Carmen!” Lindsey and Arrick said.
“To me,” Carmen smiled.
“Now,” Timon said, leaning forward and flashing her a devilish grin. “I propose we get absolutely wasted, eat a lot of good food, then tuck ourselves into bed. Whattaya say?”
“No alcohol,” Carmen replied, grimacing as she remembered the last time in Ironmend. “But food sounds absolutely wonderful.”
“Barmaid!” Timon cried, lifting his hand into the air. “Bring a feast to this table! We’ve got ourselves a new member of the Watch to feed!”
- - -
She drifted between the realms of sleep, filled with food and liquor and the greatest of feelings, wondering how, and when, her official duties would begin. She slept alone in a room meant for two with only the glow worm to keep her company, and though she would’ve preferred to have had Lindsey with her, the worm would have to suffice.
“Hey,” Carmen said, rolling over to face the creature. “Are you awake?”
In its vial, the creature pulsed once, then came to life, unfurling its small body and pressing its legs to the vial to acknowledge her presence.
“I’m not sure how this is going to work out for us,” she said, rolling onto her butt and then leaning forward so she could look at the worm almost face-to-face. “I mean… I’m not… well… scared o anything. I mean, I am, but… not scared scared. You know what I mean?”
The worm pulsed, then settled down on its vial.
“I’m just worried about what the future will mean for me,” she continued, sighing when she realized she was far more alone in the world than she could’ve ever anticipated. “I mean… at least in Ehknac I had a place, a simple purpose, a slow walk to work every morning and home every night. But here… Gods… what are they gonna make me do?”
Would they make her travel the roads, like the Fifth Battalion, or would her skills be used elsewhere—to clear out infestations of giant rodents, troublesome monsters or even to patrol the streets? She knew nothing of what the individual battalions did, and even less of what it meant to be in a particular one. All she knew was that the fifth had saved them on the road—and that, regardless of her proposed meaning, they likely did many thin
gs.
The King’s Watch, Carmen thought.
“To Protect and Serve,” she whispered, “To Honor and Obey. To Live and Let Live the Peoples of the Free Kingdom.”
She braced her heart to her chest, just as she’d been taught in primary school, and bowed her head—realizing, at that moment, that it would not be she who would be bowing to others, but others who would be bowing to her.
She sighed.
Being a hero was one thing. Being a veteran? That came with a whole different sort of responsibility.
You said you wanted to join the military, she thought with another sigh.
She’d gotten her wish.
She just hadn’t realized it’d pay off so well.
- - -
A knock came at the door the following morning—rousing Carmen, who was still alone in the room, from sleep.
“Lady Delarosa?” a young man’s voice asked, another series of knock coming to the door shortly thereafter. “Lady Delarosa? Are you awake?”
“I’m awake,” Carmen replied, still half-asleep from a restless night. “Give me a moment to get decent.”
She stood, drew a robe around her, and tied it across her waist to make sure her breasts wouldn’t be exposed before she stepped forward and opened the door.
A courier—likely no older than his mid-teens, given the lack of scruff on his face—looked from her, to her breasts, then back to her again before saying, “Muh-Muh-Message.”
Carmen took the scroll and unfurled its contents.
Lady Carmen Delarosa:
Your presence is requested within the castle today at exactly twelve o’clock in the afternoon. Please arrive with your preferred armaments so you may be indoctrinated into one of the five Battalions at the recruitment office, which will be located off to your left upon entry.
Sincerely,
The King’s Office
“Thank you,” Carmen said.
“Yuh-Yuh-yes muh-ma’am,” he said, then scrambled off without another word.
Frowning, Carmen considered the coin purse at her side, then shrugged before closing the door.
