Kings Game

Chapter 1 - All I have to do is die (2)

"Sorry what?" Yora cocked her ear at him. "I didn't catch that."

Roran looked at the people around him. Most of them were old, young, or sick; too weak to even perform menial labor. But Roran knew them. They were his neighbors and his kinsmen. They weren't kind to him, there was too much bad blood between his late mother and the townspeople for outright kindness, but they were still people he knew. People who had lost everything while he sat around doing nothing. People who were going to die if he continued sitting around doing nothing.

"I can die," Roran said again.

"What the hell are you on about boy?"

"I can earn favors. I'll participate in the games."

Yora dropped her lump of moldy bread. "The hell you will. Look at you boy, you're nothing but skin and bones. You won't last five seconds."

"That's fine," said Roran, "all I have to do is die, right? I can do that."

He looked down at the awful food in his hands. It wasn't like he was giving up anything of value. Dragging things out for another month or two before dying from illness didn't seem like a better alternative. Better to do something to help those around him and just be done with it.

"No, boy, no. I'm not allowing this," said Yora, shuffling to her feet so she could loom over him.

"What's the matter," asked Murrin, coming over to check on the commotion. "What trouble is the whore's son causing this time?"

"I'm going to participate in the games," said Roran. "You can sacrifice me for favors."

"No he's not," said Yora, turning on Murrin. "We're not letting this happen."

Murrin opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. Frowning, he stroked his chin in thought. "Well," he said after a moment, "if the boy insists it's not for us to stop him."

"It most certainly is!" Yora stomped the ground with her cane. "We can't let a child throw himself on a blade for a few more lumps of moldy bread."

"You say child, but he is almost a grown man. Were it not for the war, he would be working and supporting himself by now. It's his choice. Certainly I'm not the only one that feels this way." Murrin turned his gaze out onto the other people in the dungeon. Most were minding their own business but a few had turned to watch the commotion.

Kamil came over to add in her two cents. "I'm with Murrin, if he wishes to fight for us then that is his choice."

Yora pointed a gnarled finger at her. "Would you say that if his mother were still here?"

Kamil flinched at the accusation.

"Now now, no need to be hostile," said Murrin.

"Hostile my ass, Alira is the only reason Kamil still has children. If it weren't for her, half of our town would have died."

"I'm sorry Yora, but I don't see what that has to do with anything," said Murrin, turning away from her.

Yora leaned into Murrin, forcing him back despite being half his height. "Her dying wish was for us to look after her son. After all she did for us, you want to ignore that request and let her boy go die for a handful of favors."

"We looked after him," said Kamil, "We fed him and gave him supplies to get through the years alone. He would be dead already if it wasn't for us."

"Is that how you see it? As I recall, you just dropped your food scraps on his doorstep and ignored him. Gods forbid you actually have to interact with the poor boy. Gods forbid you show kindness to a young lad that had lost his mother."

"Come now," said Murrin, "You know that his mother's profession put us in an awkward position. We did what we could."

Yora glared at the pair. She gestured at Murrin with her cane. "It was you who chose to avail yourself to Alira's profession, and it was your husband," she moved on to Kamil, "who chose to do the same. The lad has nothing to do with it. Blame yourselves and your husbands."

"How dare you!" Kamil rounded on Yora, looming over her. "My husband was a good man, he just...we just..." she started sputtering. "How dare you!" she said again.

"Ladies please," Murrin attempted to insert himself between the two. "Let's not fight, we have enough problems as it is."

Kamil turned her rage on Murrin. "This old hag just insulted my dead husband! He was a good man, he would never sleep with a whore. Even if he did it isn't as though...it wasn't as if we had a bad marriage...we were just..."

"Oh please," said Yora, "he slept with Alira just like the other men in the town, a few of the women too. Don't get all high and mighty because you can't handle your bruised ego."

Kamil turned so red that she looked as though she might pop.

While the three continued to bicker and argue, Roran slipped away.

Under the gaze of his townspeople, Roran headed for the iron door that kept them all secure within their private little dungeon. He leaned against the bars and waited. It didn't take long.

After a few more minutes, another set of wardens began making the rounds, collecting volunteers for this week's game. By the time they made it to Roran's dungeon, they had collected a small procession of people. All of them looked as starved and miserable as Roran did.

The warden paused and eyed Roran.

"Any volunteers?" he asked.

Roran nodded. "Yeah, I'm volunteering for the game."

Off in the corner, Kamil, Murrin, and Yora were still arguing.

"Okay, step back," said the warden. The warden produced a key and unlocked the door. He swung it open and gestured for Roran to step out.

Taking a breath, Roran crossed the threshold. The warden swung the door shut with a loud bang and relocked it behind him. Finally, Yora, Kamil, and Murrin stopped arguing. Looking back, Roran could see them through the bars. He smiled and shrugged, then turned and joined the procession , following the warden down the hallway, heading towards his fate.