The King with Six Friends

The South Kingdom

Zar removed his makeshift bandages as the sun glinted over the mountain range. It was chilly that morning, but as early sunlight hit his side he could tell that it would be balmy as the day went on.

His hands had calloused over enough so that he could remove the wrappings. The back of his head would split open whenever he looked down. His hair might grow back in patchy stripes along the scars. The talon scars on his back had healed enough.

Scars were somewhat new for him. As a prince he'd never been seriously injured. As a king, however, he'd received a cut on his chin from the sword of the enemy king- a reminder.

In the distance, sunlight shined off of a city he had not seen in yesterday's haze. Sleeping houses crowded around a river bank. On the other side, a great castle sat with turrets and onion domes. The river threaded down the middle of the city to spill into a great glittering ocean on the horizon.

Zar checked his pack, which had some walnuts, the last of his cheese, and a handful of bruised mushrooms. He still had his twelve gold pieces. Perhaps the town there would accept his currency.

~ ~ ~

"Will all of you be sitting together?" the barmaid grumbled, glancing at the group of seven.

"Preferably," Zar replied, glancing anxiously around the pub.

In the back of the pub, a man hurled his beer stein across the room, knocking out the stained glass window.

"OI!!" the bartender hollered, "You're gonna pay for that!"

Zar had never been in a pub before. For his first impression, it was loud, smoky, smelly, and unsanitary. But who was he to complain after months of living in the woods?

"Follow me," the barmaid sighed, ignoring the racket. She led the seven to a long table where another man was slumped, passed out. The barmaid yanked the chair out, causing the man to come crashing down to the grimy floor.

"Get out, we don't harbor freeloaders," she told him off. The man muttered something unintelligible before stumbling away. He ran into the doorframe on his way out.

The group of seven seated around the table.

"What will you all be having?" the barmaid mumbled.

"How much will this get us?" Zar produced ten gold coins. The barmaid's dark eyes widened as the light shimmered on the gold. A flash of greed ran across her face, but she quickly covered it up. Zar noticed.

"I believe that'll get you three bowls of stew and maybe five meat pies," she said, holding her voice steady.

"What if I pay with three coins and you give us all a stew and pie?" Zar said, tucking the rest of the money away. She scowled, but accepted the three coins and went to give the long order to the chef.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Agus spoke up. "You are an excellent judge of character, you know that?" The group laughed around the table. "I'm serious! I would never have trusted Eryx  when we came across him in the bog. No offense."

"None taken," Eryx said, waving him off.

"Forgive me," Dumble put in, "But how did this, as you put it, 'Merry Band of Morphs' come to be? I would be the latest, assuming we haven't picked up another traveler."

They went around the table- pausing briefly when the barmaid brought their meal- sharing how they met the others. For Zar, it was hard to believe he'd been in exile for so long. With friends, it didn't seem like it'd been six months.

"I want to see you turn into an axe," said Kindle. He changed his mind as Edge glared at him. "Or not, nevermind."

"Zar," Edge started, "We know our stories, what is yours?"

Zar glanced around at his friends. His eyes dropped to the table. "You don't want to hear mine," he half-whispered.

"Oh, come off it,"

"Of course we do!"

"Tell us!"

"Has anyone noticed that you never smile?" asked Kindle. All heads turned to him. "He hasn't laughed either. Not even when everyone else is laughing." The rest of them thought back on the past few days. They turned back to Zar.

"You want to know why I don't smile?" Zar said after a moment. They all wanted to know, of course. Zar exhaled sharply, collecting his thoughts.

"I am- well, I used to be-" He swallowed the knot in his throat. "A king."

He stiffened as the reality of the words sunk in. "I had only been king for a few months after my father's death when another king from a different land approached our borders. He brought his army with him, threatening us if we did not submit. The East Kingdom is- was not a very powerful or large kingdom, but we weren't ones to back down from a fight."

Zar's breath shuddered. He gripped his legs to keep from trembling. Faces flashed across his mind- faces that he'd seen die right in front of him when they'd only just been talking to him.

"It wasn't a fight. It wasn't even a battle. It was a bloodbath that lasted three days. I never should have engaged in hostilities. It was all my fault. We tried to fight back, but we lost anyway. We lost so much more. I was captured on the third and used for a ransom.

"The other king offered me the choice of exile or death by beheading. It wasn't much of a choice. I- I could only keep my head down while I walked out. Now, I keep my failure and shame with me until I die. Some king I turned out to be."

It wasn't until Zar had stopped talking that he noticed the pub had gone silent. The patrons turned back to their own business and conversations picked back up. The Morphs around the table looked downcast. All, except for Edge, who looked furious.

"What?" Zar accused.

"If you ever say something like that again," Edge said with a dark tone, "I'll punch you in the mouth." Zar was taken aback by his hostility.

"I think what he's trying to say," Furze hastily put in, "Is that you have always been so observant of others, that you haven't realized how much good you've done."

"You got me out of that knot,"

"And you saved me from the rain!"

"You rescued me from the mouse,"

"And I from the bear,"

"You took charge when I needed the birds gone, even at your own expense,"

"I would have been stuck in that tree still if you hadn't heard me,"

Zar felt a dense weight lift from his chest. He had done plenty of good, even though he wasn't a good king. But he would always keep his mistakes in the back of his mind, holding onto them so that he wouldn't ever make them again.