The Royal Thief

Chapter Thirty-eight: A Brief History of Hostility

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS A REAL LIVE BONUS UPDATE. PLEASE PROCEED IN A CALM AND ORDERLY FASHION TO THE NEAREST PHONE OR COMPUTER AND WALK, DO NOT RUN, TO THE REST OF THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE.

So because so many people left awesome helpful answers to my question in Saturday's update and there were also comments on some older chapters (which combined got The Royal Thief to it's highest ranking yet of 547 on the Fantasy hot-list) I decided we qualified for a bonus update :D It won't be too long because I haven't actually got much time, but I'll do my best.

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The rest of the day passed pretty quietly. I planned a dozen ways to murder Tobias, discarded them on advice from Sam, and moved on to plotting Joshua's demise. After grudgingly admitting that I would be the only suspect and therefor had no way of getting away with it, I proceeded to mope around my room, fuming to myself, until Caer arrived and told me to sit down before I broke someone.

"When you've got that look on your face, it's only a matter of time."

"You're next."

"I don't doubt it. Since you're in such a destructive mood, may we now move on to the Dragon Wars?"

We did, but though learning about whole armies wiped out by dragon flame was somewhat soothing, I didn't feel much better. The whole situation was utterly ridiculous. Why shouldn't I be allowed to train? Was my entire life supposed to be dictated by being the Thief? They had never cared before. I had been training in the yards for years. Why now, of all times, did they have to ban me? Why did Tobias have to start caring just now about how I spent my time?

Bastards, I concluded. Obviously, the only answer that made any sense was that Tobias and his underling Joshua were despicable, evil bastards conspiring to keep me from doing anything I enjoyed. 

Well, not quite everything. I had to admit, I had come to like Caer's lessons.

"So, in a last-ditch effort to salvage his kingdom, the king tried to make an alliance with Englescroft for the use of--"

"Englescroft?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, that's what I just said. They wanted Englescroft to lend their army in return for the promise of open trade routes to the coast once the dragons had been defeated."

"But weren't they enemies?"

"You'd be surprised how fast things change when you're being attacked by giant fire-breathing reptiles. Although you're right. They were enemies, and Englescroft refused to help, because they hoped the dragons would wipe Solangia off the map so they would have room to write 'Englescroft' in bigger letters. Specifically, big enough to cover what used to be Solangia."

"But that didn't happen."

"Obviously, or we wouldn't be here today. Englescroft has always been too greedy for its own good. Solangia defeated the dragons by allying with Niormelle, whose king, not being blinded by greed for land as Englescroft was, knew the war treasures of dragon's hide they would receive in return for military aid would make his country rich from trade with mages."

"That was smart, I suppose."

"Very smart. Niormelle is still today the capital of magical trade. There are still some artifacts from those dragons in its vaults-- scales, hide, claws, teeth. Englescroft never got over how much they lost by putting themselves on the wrong side of that war."

"But they weren't really on the wrong side, they just didn't help--"

"Actually, they did their best to help the dragons whenever they could. Raiding towns along the border, damming up the Maharian River... anything. Our countries have never been friends."