To Catch a King

4.

Daemis was a small village that was based off of hunting in the woods and raising livestock. A few of the people in the village grew crops, but only enough for the village and not for the rest of Ferilis. There were bigger farms for that. Daemis was encased in a large, stone wall that kept out the many animals that hunted at night and raiders. This village was known for being rarely penetrated during wartime.

The two travelers arrived in Ferilis at twilight, just before the guards closed the gate. After showing their travel papers and their pins, they were allowed in the village. While Daemis was certainly lively during the day, at this time of the season, it was at its liveliest during the night.

Daemis was the home of the Blackfest, a nightly winter festival that celebrated the conquering of Ferilis from the Natives. It was rather known throughout Ferilis that the great wall around Daemis was built by Natives, but was captured when the Natives decided to trust one of the conquerors. The intruding conqueror murdered the Native Chief and proceeded to let soldiers in, and most of the Natives in Daemis were killed. The few that lived escaped to Talehaven, an already growing community for Natives.

Andreas hated Daemis. He hated how the people celebrated the death of his ancestors, commenting that they were savages that didn’t need to live. His people were survivors, and needed to be treated as such. As he pulled his horse to the stables, he could feel the eyes of nearly every citizen of Daemis watching him. They were waiting to see what he would do, if he would become a lunatic.

While he wanted to do that, he certainly didn’t. Andreas and Jask represented the Elite Soldiers, so it was their duty to put up a good face, even if he hated the idea of his people being blasphemed by the idiots that killed them. A touch from Jask calmed him, and they both walked to the nearest inn that he could think of. It had been a while since he’d been to Daemis, and thankfully it wasn’t during Blackfest.

The inn, called The Grinning Pig, was more of a bar than an inn, with only a few rooms haphazardly added above the bar. Since night hadn’t fully fallen yet, it wasn’t as busy as it would be later. Andreas just wanted to pay for a room, go to sleep, find information on Victor, and get out of Daemis. Unfortunately, he was hungry and he needed to save the rations that he and Jask had.

They both walked to the bar, and Jask kept looking at Andreas, noting his ever impassive face looked angry and disgusted. She hadn’t looked at him when they entered Daemis and encountered Blackfest, but she knew what the festival was about, and she didn’t blame him for hating these people. If the same thing had happened to her people and it was celebrated as if it was something to be proud of, she’d be disgusted and angry as well.

The barkeep eyed them warily, looking more at Andreas than anything. He was suspicious of the Native, ready to react if Andreas reacted in some unsatisfactory way. She cleared her throat, pulling up their cover as a couple and making sure that her Elite pin was visible. She hated acting.

“My husband and I are tired; we need a room for tonight,” she confidently announced. The barkeep whipped his head over to look at her. She could tell he was looking at her with the interest a man gave a woman he liked, but then he realized that she had said “husband”, and the sullen Native was with her.

“You sure?” he asked. “You know that he’s…”

“A Native?” Jask replied, her voice dangerously low. “Of course I do. How could I not know the man that I married? Is there a problem?”

The barkeep’s eyes looked down at her pin and then the fact that she was an Elite Soldier dawned on him. He looked over at Andreas, who met his gaze when he realized that the Native was also an Elite.

“N-no, there isn’t…it’s just…”

“Blackfest?” Andreas butted in. “We’re pretty aware. We just need a room for the night and then we’ll be out of your hair. She and I are paying customers.”

The barkeep’s face darkened. “Yes, you are. But Natives”—he growled the word like it was something that physically repulsed him—“aren’t allowed to be in here. You’re going to need to find yourself a new establishment. The lady here is fine.”

Jask was getting impatient. She hadn’t spoken so much since her father was alive and she could see him every day, but the need to talk to this imbecile grated on her nerves. She could feel that the few patrons in The Grinning Pig could feel the tension. Granted, most of them were drunk off of their heads, so they could barely react, but they knew something was going on.

“That’s perfectly unacceptable, sir,” she ground out. “We don’t usually throw this arrogance and our positions around, but you do realize that we are Elite Soldiers, correct?”

The barkeep nodded.

“Then you do realize that if we so chose, we could blackmail you? I have no problem to resorting to such methods, as I grew up with thieves before joining the grandness that is the Elite Soldiers. My morals are sometimes questionable.” The barkeep was getting paler and Andreas was looking at her, incredulous. Like he thought she was crazy and actually about to blackmail the poor man. “You also realize that we can have this place blacklisted so that no visitors, and probably not even your regulars, will ever visit this place again? That without good, paying customers of all colors and races, you would lose all of your profit?”

The barkeep was now white as a sheet and he started to sputter. “M-Ma’am, you are welcome to stay here, your husband is welcome as well.” The fear of no one coming to his inn was terrifying him, and Jask loved it.

She had been leaning on the bar in front of the man, and she straightened. “No, thank you,” she smirked. “We’re off to find a place that is worth our time and money. Goodnight, dear barkeep.” Grabbing Andreas’ hand, she pulled him out of the inn and they walked to a new one.

To say that Andreas was shocked was a vast understatement. While he enjoyed the way that Jask talked, and that she was surprisingly eloquent with her words, she was obviously much more dangerous than he gave her credit for, and maybe that’s why she didn’t talk often. Even though they had spoken less than a sentence to each other, he could tell that both he and the barkeep were entranced by her voice. It was like that of the fictional merfolk whose voices could lead you to death. The poor barkeep, while discriminatory towards Andreas, didn’t need to practically pee his pants. And looking at his companion, he could tell she was proud of herself.

They headed to another end, this time farther from the festivities that were Blackfest. This inn was even less populated than the other one, and the people were much more amicable, not dwelling on the fact that Andreas was one of the very people the entire village was celebrating the near destruction of. Quickly, they got a room.

Neither of them thought about the uncomfortable realization that there was only one bed in the room and that the married couple idea wasn’t well thought out. Before Andreas went to bathe, the both of them tried to agree that they were siblings. That didn’t work out, so they tried to decide on plenty of other scenarios, from partners searching for a family member (that one hit a little close), to family members, to people who didn’t share the same sexuality, to trying to pretend that Jask was a male disguised as a female. When none of those seemed to work, they both grudgingly agreed that the marriage option was clearly the best route.

The next morning, Jask decided to stick with Andreas. From what she had heard, Blackfest would be going on for two more days, and there was no way she was going to stay for the entire thing. Blackfest needed to be abolished because of the blatant racism that it encompassed. Andreas was already tense, and after a small argument back in their room (she wondered why she was suddenly speaking so much, when the man that accompanied her was definitely not her father), she figured that if something or someone provoked him, she’d better be there to keep him from going insane.

First, they headed to the marketplace. They needed supplies to continue on to their journey, and early morning was the best time to do it. There, they stocked up on vegetables, medicines, bread, and more weapons. Specifically, Andreas got a bow and arrows to accompany his sword, and Jask got brass knuckles and a short sword to accompany her dagger. By the time they were finished, their bags were full.

Then it was off to find information.

At first, they sat in different bars—including The Grinning Pig—to see if they could hear some gossip. When that failed to yield results, they took to asking around, particularly going to the alleyways that some of the people of Daemis called home. After a day’s work, they still hadn’t found any information and they were ready to give up.

Rather than trying to find a room in another inn, Jask and Andreas scaled the walls of Daemis and left the village. Neither of them noticed a trio of fighters following them until a fighter made a mistake.

Jask was ready to use her brass knuckles. It had been a while since she’d last fought, and she felt the need to do it again. She examined them. She could tell that neither of them had any long-ranged weapons, or they’d already be dead. Since they weren’t attacked when they arrived at the village, someone must have alerted these fighters that she and Andreas were looking for the prince.

Andreas knew that there was going to be a fight. It was obvious. He didn’t really want to fight though. When he fought, he had the tendency to lose control and nearly kill his opponent. It was another reason none of the men at the barracks wanted to fight with him. There was nothing scarier than a Native with a grudge who could also go berserk when fighting. Unfortunately, he was sure that none of the fighters facing them knew that. He went into a defensive stance and heard Jask put on her brass knuckles. At least she would get to use them.

Looking up at the sky, he inwardly sighed. They were fighting in the moonlight. While this was normal for him—he trained in the dead of night whenever he could—and Jask obviously could handle herself because of her thieving, these fighters weren’t wearing the crisp white uniforms of Enforcers or soldiers. They were wearing the colors of the night, dark blue and black, and so couldn’t be seen well.

The first charged at him, and Andreas barely caught the knife Jask had thrown him. Quickly he sliced upward and he had just barely nicked the fighter before the man jumped back. Through the torn shirt of the fighter, Andreas could see pale skin beneath. He frowned. There were very few pale people in Ferilis; most were visitors from neighboring countries.

The fighter came back at him and Andreas staggered back, trying to fend off a multitude of blows that rained down on him. He twisted and kicked his foot out, catching the fighter in the stomach. While the fighter was gasping for air, Andreas kneed the attacker in the face, breaking a couple of teeth and the fighter’s nose. He continued to fight the attacker, who barely had time to defend himself, before knocking the man out.

He glanced over at Jask. She was fending off the other two men, quickly weaving through them as if she was the wind. One grabbed her from behind and proceeded to put a knife to her neck. She noticed and head-butted him. The man started to howl, and Jask quickly grabbed his arm and twisted; Andreas could hear the bone break. She then went behind the man and brought her elbow down on his neck.

Andreas, still standing and stupidly watching her fight, barely noticed the third attacker. As the attacker headed for Jask, Andreas’ soldier training kicked in and threw the knife. It hit the attacker in a nonfatal area and the soldier cried out, causing Jask to look up and see him still running for her.

Andreas tried to throw himself at the attacker, but the injured man was too quick. With what must have been a great feat of strength, the attacker pulled out the knife buried in his side, aimed, and threw it. Jask moved out of the way a bit too slowly, and the knife lodged itself just above her heart.

Time slowed for them both while the attacker collapsed, faint from loss of blood. Although he knew that Jask was more important, Andreas got up and went to the attacker, pulling him up by the neck. He didn’t care that the man was in pain. He didn’t care that Jask was lying on the ground, nearly unconscious, watching the scene.

“Who sent you?” he demanded.

He couldn’t see the attackers face, but he could see the eyes. Those were the eyes of a killer. The attacker started to laugh.

“You’re too weak and naïve to defeat him,” the attacker gasped. Andreas could tell that the man was dying, so he decided to give him a quick death if he didn’t answer the question.

“Who sent you?” Andreas growled. The attacker then seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation, for his eyes widened and Andreas could detect a hint of fear. “That’s the last time I’m going to ask.”

The attacker’s gaze narrowed and Andreas knew he was losing his window. Jask needed to be taken care of and this man wasn’t giving him anything he needed. The attacker grinned.

“You’re smart, Native. You noticed that my friend over there is pale-skinned.” The attacker coughed and blood splattered onto Andreas’ face. He didn’t care. If anything, his grip tightened when the man called him “Native”. “I’ll give you a hint, then, since you dealt my death’s blow: he rises with the sun and calls himself a phoenix, that fictional bird that is reborn from the ashes that you gits believe in. He’s a new king, so it should be easy. There are only five other countries around Ferilis that just gained a new king.” With that, the attacker smiled and died.

Dropping the man’s body, Andreas hurried over to Jask. He picked her up, careful not to jostle the knife in her chest, and slowly walked to the village. When he got to the gates, he yelled an order to the guardsmen, one they couldn’t ignore for fear of getting demoted or fired.

“An Elite soldier is dying! Open the gate!”