The Beggar’s Journey – Prologue III

(~1k words)

Lynceus turned back to parlor and King while the wind shaped his black silk cloak against his legs. He looked at Callius as if roused, as though they had not embraced a moment ago. A curse given to those who spent their days in the eyes of the public, glad-handing and proffering themselves to others for social leverage. Except Callius Nisodon was not the public, Callius Nisodon was the King, and the King -having interrupted Lynceus- padded over to the Noble from Nothing on bare feet. He’d sent his servants down into Aeras Square the day before with instructions to procure a few articles of simple clothing which he now wore; an off-white robe pinched at the shoulder and tied around the waist by a strip of leather so thin it could not even be called a belt despite doing the job of one. For the first time since he’d arrived, Lynceus took in the King’s modest appearance.

“I… of course. Yes, your majesty, they’re formal requests.”

“Well then as formal requests, they will have to be written down and given to the Archon of Records,” King Nisodon spoke in flat tones, careful that his satisfaction at Lynceus’s discomfort not bleed into his words. “As to the likelihood of their approval… well… I see no reason we could not double the amount of criers, and likewise no reason we could not have a second announcement made on the Kingsway, however removal of the leaflets is out of the question as predictable expectations must be set regarding the melee and it’s path. An announcement on Cloudstep is similarly doomed. I refuse to waste the resources.”

Lynceus flinched as though struck and King Nisodon suppressed a smile. The idea that anything involving the Noble from Nothing could be considered a waste of resources, had seemingly never occurred to the man. However an idea did occur to the King, a brilliant one brought on by none other than Lynceus himself. It was all Callius could do to keep a straight face.

“Oh, but that does give me an idea, an excellent idea,” King Nisodon turned to Lynceus and this time he let the smile come, broad and genuine. “Old friend, you solve problems I did not even know I had. Perhaps we can save on a few leaflets after all.”

Perking up, Lynceus pulled his shoulders back, finally giving the King his full attention.

“Though the proximity of the Kingsway to Cloudstep makes the need for an announcement there redundant, I cannot say the same for the five fiefs.” Lynceus groaned like an insolent child, but the King -having anticipated it’s coming- turned smoothly away. “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea, Lynceus. I will send you ahead of the games as a special envoy to announce its coming to each fief personally. Why have we not thought of this before? How surprised they will be to have a man of such esteem in their midst. Most clever my friend, most clever indeed.”

“I…” Lynceus stood at odds with himself. His enjoyment of this event had just been significantly reduced, yet he was incapable of letting a compliment slide by unacknowledged. “…yes, thank you your majesty.”

“You’ll start at Exul Rill, then work east and north…” Stroking his beard, King Nisodon, wondered at his luck. He would have Lynceus out of the way for all of Scything at the minimum, a King’s Boon indeed. “I’m told the wine from Exul Rill is unrivaled by the other fiefs, you know.”

Behind him, Lynceus stood silent, the giddy momentum of earlier snuffed out. Were it not for his arrogance and competing popularity, Callius might have felt pity for the man, certainly he’d never seen anything from Lynceus that would indicate disloyalty. Never that. The Noble from Nothing was always appropriately humbled whenever there was occasion to remind the man of his place; it was the fleeting moments in-between that made King Nisodon wary of his charge, and in the stories that had burned through the Bloat like wildfire over the last twenty three seasons. Stories which -if true- indicated Lynceus would leave a thriving generation of his blood behind when he died, a stunning legacy that sat in mocking contrast to the King’s presumed failure to sire an heir. No, King Nisodon did not feel pity for Lynceus.

“My Ki-”

“Who knew,” King Nisodon cut him off, his words snapping across Lynceus’s own like a willow-switch. “What you would become to this Empire when I bestowed you your title in Aeras Square all those seasons ago?” he smiled. A wicked thing. “And to think, you had already accomplished so much of note before you mastered the Beggar’s Journey. I imagine men must feel small in your presence knowing how little they have done by comparison.”

“I have been fortunate, my King.” Lynceus bowed respectfully.

“Yes…” King Nisodon mused. “You have. Tell me something.”

“My King, what would you know?”

“Does it ever vex you?”

“Does what vex me?”

“That your greatest accomplishment must remain hidden behind a veil of necessity. That you are largely… seasonal. That despite your considerable standing in the Empire, your story remains… untold?” The King watched Lynceus as he waited for a response.

“My King…” Lynceus began, the words coming slowly. “You know my story, and that is enough.”

Such a careful man, thought King Nisodon. But I’ll get what I’m after. “I’m honored you feel that way. Perhaps you’d honor me again?”

“My King?”

“Tell it to me once more.”

“Tell you-”

“The story, Lynceus, the one only I know. It will do you good I think to share with me what you can’t with others.”

Lynceus licked his lips.

“Come now old friend, you’ve joked of it enough. I’d have the tale again.”

“It has been a… considerable time between tellings,” said Lynceus.

Callius dismissed Lynceus’s words with a wave. “You will be forgiven any gaps in the story,”

He would forgive nothing.

It had been twenty three seasons since he had heard this man’s tale, and for all the shortcomings of his youth, Callius Nisodon had never forgotten it. Its impact had precipitated the first mistake of his young rule. With the help of Hyssop’s Library, the Archon of Records, and a not insubstantial amount of personal investment, Callius had spent the last twenty three seasons working to remedy that mistake. The rest he would learn now. If a second hand retelling could stick with him this long, Lynceus -having experienced the events firsthand- should have little trouble recounting it with the same clarity.

And yet, King Nisodon could not help but wonder if today’s account would resemble the one from so long ago.

He wondered very much.

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