Darius Chapter 12

Darius dreamt he was on a small fishing boat out in the Premarantic Ocean, fishing for drowning cats. He had caught three so far, a tabby, a ginger, and a black one. They sat next to him on his small bench, mewling and licking themselves dry. He was about to reel in a fourth when his boat started rocking, small ripples giving the boat just enough push for him to notice the movement. The ripples grew until he had to put his rod down, grabbing onto the sides of the boat to steady himself. The tabby cat grew wings and flew out over the ocean, turning to face him when it was about twenty paces away.

“...Darius...” it said.

“Darius, oi, Darius” it glided back towards him, gathering speed until it was meters away, outstretching its claws to rip at his-

“DARIUS!”

He launched out of bed, almost colliding heads with Bart who was dressed the same as yesterday, probably having fallen asleep in his chair for the duration of the night. He felt his bed jolting as though a bear had crawled underneath and was now trying to stand up. He came out of his daze reasonably well – judging by the small amount of light outside, it couldn’t have been too long before his body clock normally woke him up.

But the ground was shaking. If he stood limp, Darius felt like his teeth would start chattering. Bart walked out the door and motioned to Darius to follow him.

“Come look sir, I think those guards might’ve let our secret slip after all.”

Darius went outside and before he’d reached the small partition between the main forge and the forge’s ‘shopfront’ he could hear masses of voices shouting across each other and breaking out into arguments. He reached the front and before him stood a stampede of at least four hundred people, mostly soldiers, all holding some kind of weapon or a piece of armor. When the people closest to the forge saw him, they erupted in cheers and rushed forward, holding out their blades in one hand, and a pouchful of coins in the other. The excitement flowed through the crowd, producing the same eruption of noise and rush forward of hundreds of bodies. Darius had nowhere to go, trapped in by the wriggling mass. He looked back at Bart and yelled at him.

“BART, get the axe and hide it behind my larder – we can’t have this lot getting loose in there and finding it.”

Bart scurried off to do his bidding, trying to conceal the broad battle-axe behind his back as he scampered across the cold floor with it. He disappeared into Darius’s quarters.

From the crowd, a tall captain pushed through to the front of the pack. He produced a sheathed sword and bag of coins larger than the pouches that others had brought and pitched them over the heads of the few men remaining in front of him, both items landing pretty much next to Darius’s feet. Not to be outdone, the rest of the crowd tried the same, tossing all manner of money and weaponry at Darius, as though he was some god worthy of sacrifice. Unsheathed swords and pointed daggers spun through the air from farther afield, a miracle that no one was hurt in the process. Darius equipped himself with a long post, normally used to move around hot coals in the middle of the wide forge. He had repurposed it for this occasion, holding it horizontal across his body and swinging left and right, deterring the eager crowd from coming closer.

Just as he felt the authority of his post start to dwindle, a huge crashing clamor came from the hill around to the east of the forge, and buckets full of water and green-brown sludge were tossed over those at the front of the crowd. Darius and Bart’s saviors had come. The small band, consisting of mounted knights in dark navy armor and Lady Silfor in a fresh yellow dress careened into the group, dissipating the people with swings of dull clubs and never-ending buckets of goop. A soldier with a purple plume on his helmet shouted above the din.

“ALL SOLDIERS RETURN TO YOUR BARRACKS IMMEDIATELY, AWAIT ORDERS!”

He did figure-eights on his warhorse as he plowed through the crowd, hopping down and pulling people up to their feet when they fell, kicking them back west towards the barracks and armory. Lady Silfor picked her way to Darius.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d see me again so soon. Aren’t you lucky?”

“Lucky is one word for it, I didn’t realize I was living amongst crazy people! You Erinstone lot are out of your minds!”

Silfor chuckled and then ventured into the forge, emerging soon after with Bart in tow.

“I expected this might happen; I tried my best to keep my guard’s mouths shut but you know how it is. I'll sentence them to latrine duty for a month for this effort. Anyway, I think it’s best if you come with me, I’ve arranged for temporary quarters at the castle while we sort this out, and my father wants a word.

Bart had almost fainted when he’d seen Lady Silfor the first time, but upon hearing his impending appointment with the King, his heart just about stopped. He had only seen the King twice, once in a parade for his coronation, and then on one other occasion when his Highness had toured a farm Bart was working on. To be granted an audience with the icon of Erinstone was overwhelming.

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The group hustled out of the forge amongst the confusion, the remaining mounted knights forming a cocoon around them whilst the straggling soldiers were still being driven back to the center of the district. The massive horses dwarfed both Bart and Darius, and walking amongst them was like being in a huffing, neighing cage. Once they skirted the far eastern side of the forge, their party went north-east for about half a kilometer before arriving at a small door in the Royal District wall, similar to the ones near the main gates. So close to the cliff, Darius could peer over the edge and see the waves climbing and falling against the cliff face. For a moment, he thought he saw some peculiar red animal break the surface and smack onto the wall, clinging there for a second, but some ocean spray got in his eyes, blurring his vision. When he rubbed them and squinted back down, it was gone. Darius figured his mind was just playing tricks on him after all the adrenaline.

The knights dismounted and led their horses through last, pulling their bridles down while the horses barely squeezed through the gap. Inside the safety of the Royal District, the group spread out, ambling towards the castle. Silfor led, talking to the purple-plumed knight who had followed along behind them after dealing with the stampede. They seemed to be deep in conversation. Silfor’s cheeks and forehead were bright red, and she frowned at the knight as he waved his arms around. Darius walked a bit faster, until he was in earshot.

“Silfor, we can’t let them go unpunished! These are the very men and women who are tasked with keeping the peace in our kingdom. How can we do nothing when they stage something like that – and only because of a rumor spread by two guards?! Let me take one for every five at least. I won’t kill them; I’ll just make sure they all get the message.”

Silfor looked ready to throttle the man, and by the impression Darius had gotten of her so far, not even the thick armor on his neck would save him.

“Mitrev, you must give them a break! I’m just as excited as they are about magic returning to the world – I don’t know how you aren’t! If we can work out how Darius did it, Erinstone will be a superpower. We won’t need this alliance with Barringvale to go ahead, no one would stand a chance!”

Darius’s eyes widened and he shrank back, feeling as though he wasn’t supposed to hear their discussion. He was surprised to hear Silfor talking of breaking the alliance with Barringvale, especially whilst being betrothed to Marth. But he didn’t exactly blame her, either. It made sense that if Barringvale was no longer a threat, Silfor wouldn’t need to give herself away to some foreign prince, just to make friends. Maybe she could marry Heldrus after all.

They entered the castle from the east side. Bart grabbed an armful of kindling from a big metal cage on their path, carrying it under his arm as though he planned on presenting it to the King when they met. Once inside the anteroom, Silfor dismissed their convoy and turned to Darius and Bart.

“Okay boys, hup hup, welcome to your home for the next little while. Marth’s room is just next to yours, Darius, so you two can be chums like old times if that suits. Erm, Bart, I will admit your lodgings aren’t as nice as Darius’s, but you’re close to the kitchens so do what you will with that information. One last thing, the King’s Forge is at the end of the western corridor so please keep experimenting, but don’t make too much noise late at night or early in the morning, otherwise Layla Avongold will come across the lawn and beat the snot out of you. Okay toodaloo!”

With that hurried introduction, Silfor rushed off, a posse of servants falling in step as she traipsed down the eastern corridor. Darius and Bart stood in the anteroom for a while longer, adjusting to their new surroundings. Eventually, Lord Grenfell walked past. The lanky figure made a noise like a seagull when he saw Darius.

“Darius! Wow! I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I hear you’ve created a bit of a panic with the soldiers today. Something ridiculous about magical axes? Sounds like something Marth would make up.

Bart butted in.

“It’s true! Darius made a magical axe that disintegrates anything it touches. We don’t know how though...”

Darius laughed at the enthusiasm.

“Yeah Gren, you won’t believe it, but it’s not all a tall tale. Still a lot of information to gather, I think Lady Silfor wants to kit out the whole Erinstone army with magical weapons.”

Lord Grenfell had been in Erinstone for over two weeks now, but his inactivity hadn’t affected his constant calculating and thinking that had earned him the spot of Marth’s chief advisor. The color drained from his face as he put two and two together and realized what that would mean for both the Erinstone-Barringvale alliance, as well as the new threat of invasion if such weapons were mass-produced. He lost his jovial attitude.

“Oh, oh yes, I – I need to find Marth.”

He strode off, clopping down a corridor until he rapped on Marth’s door, letting himself in. The young Prince was nowhere to be found, most likely out on yet another tour of the city. Grenfell went inside, closed the door, and waited.

Darius went the other direction with Bart, helping him to find his room before going back and dropping off his own gear. It turned out that Bart’s room was just a small chamber adjacent to the servant’s quarters. A single bed with two thin blankets, a small desk with no chair, a neat stack of candles in the corner. Bart was impressed.

“Well, well, well, sir, king of the castle over here!”

He sat on the squeaky bed, bouncing on the scrappy mattress. Darius made a mental note to build a second bedroom somewhere in the forge – it seemed like the kid was sleeping in the forge since he had no place else to go.

Darius turned to leave, when he heard a sound that had become far too familiar to him over the past day – the ‘click clack’ of Lady Silfor approaching. Her retinue had grown, now including four servants, two guards, an ambassador and a scribe. She turned to the scribe as she walked, dictating some scheme or thought to him as they walked. Once she caught Darius’s eye, she spoke, her voice echoing down the hallway.

“Darius! Bart! I’m very sorry, I forgot one small thing.”

She skidded to a stop at Bart’s door, poking her head in to check he was there.

“You’re going to see the King now.”