The King with Six Friends

King Invictus

Raucous laughter echoed around the ballroom. King Invictus and his advisors wore rich heavy clothes of velvet and furs. Their rings and pendants emphasized their power. Zar stiffened and stood upright. The king's eyes alighted with intrigue when he saw Zar.

"So," King Invictus mused, "This is the infamous 'King Zar,' hm?"

"Yes, My Lord. We found him outside a blacksmith's shop not far from the palace." said a wiry man, most likely the king's page.

The king stroked his gray beard thoughtfully. "Are you a man of honor?" He spoke directly to Zar.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Zar curtly replied.

The king scanned his disheveled attire, his rough hands, and his bandaged head. "Walk with me," he said at last, though it was more of a command. The king gestured for his court to remain behind.

The king's page noticed the pile of worn books on the table left behind by the mysterious lady. He whispered to a servant, "I thought I told the librarian to discard these."

Zar followed King Invictus down a long windowed corridor. It overlooked the sprawling palace grounds. The gardens fanned out until it met a neatly-trimmed grove of trees. Not a soul was in sight, giving it the look of an isolated terrarium.

"You do not know me Zar, but I know you." murmured the king.

Zar gaped at him in surprise. "Beg- begging your pardon?"

"I attended your christening. Your father and mother were good friends of mine. I'd never seen them happier." The king gazed thoughtfully out the window. "You would be, what, twenty-three, twenty-four years old now? Not much older than my Kiera."

"Kiera?" Zar realized the lady he'd met was the princess.

"My daughter. You've never met her before." The king sighed sadly. "I was simply heartbroken when I heard what had happened to your parents. News, unfortunately, can only travel as fast as a person can carry it."

Zar glanced at the ground. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?"

He thought back to the day when his parents' carriage was ambushed by highwaymen. The day that one soldier came hobbling back on one leg. The day he had to attend the funeral of both of his parents and watch them both being lowered into the earth in coffins. The day that he had to look like he could govern a kingdom but still felt like a child in his father's crown, sitting on his father's throne. He missed his mother's voice. He missed his father's voice.

"I have not, however, been informed of the South Kingdom's invasion. Dreadful. How are you holding?" asked the king caringly. "Defeat in war can be a hard blow to character."

Zar picked at the bandage on his head. "I've been better."

The king was thoughtful for a minute. He closed his eyes meditatively.

"Zar, I am willing to give you a chance of redemption." The king put his hand on his shoulder. "My only son Levis. . . died a few years ago. I have no heir, and Kiera is terribly lonely."

Zar could see where this was going. "Your Grace, I couldn't possibly-"

"I'm not just going to hand my daughter and my kingdom over to you on a silver platter," the king interrupted, chuckling with amusement. "We're going to do this the old-fashioned way. Three trials-" He held up his fingers to illustrate- "To prove you are worth your weight in wisdom, skill, and a stomach for gore. If you wish, you may begin tomorrow."

Zar was dumbfounded. "But why me? Of all people, princes and kings, why would you allow me, an exile, to contend for your throne?"

"I'm not getting any younger, Zar," the king explained, "No other prince or king will care for my kingdom as faithfully when I am gone. They will only use it to provide easy wealth to their own lands, oppressing my people. And Kiera, I shudder to think what they would do to her."

Zar turned away from the window, cogitating his situation.

"It is your choice entirely," the king added, "You could walk away, and no one would be any wiser. You have nothing to lose."

That would be the easiest choice; just walk away into oblivion. Or, he could take on the challenge and become stronger and wiser. Nothing to lose, but everything to gain.

"Your Highness," Zar queried, "In these trials, am I allowed the help of my friends?"