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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1974547-In-The-Time-of-Peace
Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1974547
This is just part of beginning of the first chapter.
Chapter 1



The Time of Peace



  “It is a beautiful day, my love” said King Aldan Sutherwind, as he gazed through the window of his lavish bedchamber. Outside, as far as he could see, was the kingdom of Thellos and encircling the base of his ivory palace were its citizens; fruitful and content. All within his land were pleased with their King's rule, as he showed them favor of lenient taxes, free trade in the markets and a vigilant guard, by his Peacekeepers; knights and mages of considerable skill.

  Aldan left the view and dressed himself in his royal attire. He had no love for the silk shirt and breeches; they offered no comfort and felt like a wisp of wind that stuck to his skin. His tunic, with its silver crown set in a golden sun on its chest, he dawned with pride. It was the crest of his ancestors that had prevailed for thirty-seven generations. Last was his crown, set atop a plush velvet pillow. He looked upon the silver halo, with its emeralds and rubies pitted into its arches, and shook his head. Like his clothing, it was a bother to wear; having been made to fit the first king. None the less, he took it from its seat and rested it upon his head. Once finished, he looked into a tall mirror and saw a proud Thellosian king; prepared to be bombarded by his advisers their never ending insistence of an heir.

  Behind the royal clothes and under the spectacular crown was an old man with salt and pepper hair and a beard of faded red whiskers; long since bereft of love or need of progeny. Without his garb, he would appear as one of his own people. Maybe a farmer or blacksmith? Perhaps a toymaker; bringing joy to children throughout the land.

  He scoffed. “Such are the dreams of kings.” His eyes shifted from the mirror to the portrait of a beautiful woman with milky white skin and a head of radiant auburn hair. Her dress was as prestigious as his own, as she too wore a matching crown. He pressed his fingers to his lips, blew her a kiss and left to begin his day.



  “I do not think it that easy,” Aldan said, as he sat on his thrown; a red cape with a furred collar draped over his shoulders. Before him, in a great hall of pillars and tapestries, stood several men in white robes; a bald man of lank frame, in front of them. “A king who weds for the sole purpose of an heir is a selfish king.”

  “But also a wise king,” the bald man stated. “Thellos will need a ruler, once your Majesty unfortunately passes to the next world.”

  “Thellos has not always had my line sit upon the thrown. Once I am gone, a new king shall take my place.”

  The advisers clamored and shook their heads in defiance.

  “My Lord, the line of Sutherwind has reigned longer than any and has brought the most prosperity to the land. No other could achieve such greatness.”

  “It was no Sutherwind who achieved such greatness, Toman,” Aldan said, as he rose from his seat and joined the others. He rested his hands upon Toman's shoulders and gave them an assured squeeze. “It was by Thellosian hands, this kingdom has prospered, and by Thellosian hands, a new king shall be chosen.”

  “But my Lord-”

  “Enough for now,” Aldan cut him short, “I wish to take a ride and enjoy this wonderful day.”

  Toman cast his eyes to the ground and sighed. “As you wish, my Lord.” He and the rest of the advisers bowed and took their leave.

  Aldan releases a sigh of his own, as he lifted the cape and scratched his neck. “Why is this thing always so damned itchy?”

  “Perhaps it has fleas,” a man's voice echoed through the room.

  Aldan smiled, as he took the cape back to the throne. “You move quite stealthily, for a man of your age.”

  A man with short gray hair, in dark leather clothes and a red cape, appeared from behind a pillar. “It is not a hard task, when you keep yourself unguarded.”

  “Why should I need guarding?” Aldan asked. He reached behind the throne and withdrew a short double-edge sword. Its hilt was made of Thellosian oak, wrapped with snake's hide. The steel cross guard held a ruby on either side, while the pommel was fitted with a brilliant sapphire. “What fool would attack a king in his own palace?”

  “One with a grudge,” the man said, as he drew to curved swords from under his cape; crude compared to his Majesty's blade.

  Aldan laughed, as he stepped toward the center of the hall. “I thought you would have let that go by now.”

  “Some things are hard to let go,” said the stranger, as he joined the King. Both men stood a few feet from each other, with their swords at the ready. “Ready to settle this?”

  “After you,” Aldan said and bowed, with eyes closed.

  The man attacked, with a wild swing, which Aldan was quick to deflect. The stranger went on the offensive, with spiraling sweeps and thrusts. His moves appeared chaotic, but their agility and precision were made by a skilled hand.

  Aldan meted his retreat, as he parried, dodged and blocked each swipe. Every blow stung his hand and threatened to shake his his elbow loose, when he saw an opening. With what little movement his pampered clothing gave him, it was just enough for him to riposte and fling one of the man's blades across the room; sliding underneath the throne. They hopped away from each other and caught there breaths.

  “You've improved.” Aldan said, as he rolled his wrist.

  “Spent the last five years with the monks in Topiic. A quiet lot, but eager to teach by example.”

  “Not bad. Though I've always been partial to the druids of Bor.”

  Aldan lunged, his attack easily dodged, and began a furious assault of his own. Unlike his foe, his movements were solid and structured; switching from one to two-handed attacks without pause. With his rigid form and lax hand, he regained lost ground. The duel went on, each gaining the upper hand every few steps, until their swords clashed together and both men pushed with all their strength; glaring at each other between the blades.

  “The next move will declare the winner,” said the man.

  “Indeed. Do you have something in mind?”

  “I have a good idea. Yourself?”

  “Not really,” Aldan answered. “Guess I'll have to pull something from the top of my head.” He pushed away and prepared himself, as the man spun his sword in a dizzying display, before he brought his attack from below; aimed at the King's side.

  In the same instant, Aldan grabbed his crown and used it to block the sword. The man's eyes went wide, as he gaped. Aldan used the moment to kick him in the groin and bring him to his knees. He paused, exhaled a harried breath and slapped the crown across the man's face.

  “That was quite exhilarating,” Aldan said, as he stepped back and let his sword rest at his side. “We should truly do this more often.”

  “Are you mad?!” the man shouted, as he rose to his feet; holding his cheek. “You don't use the damned crown in combat.”

  “Easy, Camdin, easy,” Aldan said, as he examined the crown. “This thing was forged to outlast all the kings of Thellos.” He caught sight of a long chink in the band and was quick to put it back on.

  “To be worn on your head,” Camdin stated. “Not flung about by a madman with no regard for proper etiquette.”

  Aldan chuckled aloud, as he walked to the throne. “I don't recall the head of the honor guard attacking the king in his throne room to be part of proper etiquette either.”

  “Former head,” Camdin said. “And we both know, if I didn't keep you on your toes, you would be fat and complacent by now.”

  “I don't know about fat,” Aldan said, as he sheathed the sword behind the throne. He took a moment to look at the embellished chair. “Complacent? I don't believe it possible.”

  Camdin looked upon the king and shook his head. “And you chastise me about not letting things go. It's been thirty years, Aldan. What's past is past.”

  “As you said, some thing are hard to let go.” Aldan sat on the throne and looked about the hall; how spacious and empty it was. “I hate this place; always have.”

  “I know,” Camdin said, as he put his sword away. “Your disdain for the mantle was quite obvious when we first met.”

  “”That was quite a day,” Aldan said; a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “A runaway prince bumping into a thief. We had quite the brawl then.”

  “Which I one.”

  Aldan chortled. “I think we've resolved that issue, just now.”

  “By Surdan we did,” Camdin said and pointed at him. “You cheated.”

  “How do you call that cheating? All I did was use the proper means to defend myself.”

  “Whatever you have to tell yourself. We're not done with this.”

  Aldan sighed and he smiled at his friend. “Do you wish to join me on a ride?”
© Copyright 2014 Jackson Tyler Lee (jtlee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1974547-In-The-Time-of-Peace