The King's Law

Balian raised his eyebrows in surprise. One hit? One hit and the creature was dead? Sir Lucan was a powerful foe indeed.

He thought about the axe he had taken from the creature during the battle. Even with its extreme heaviness, he had decided to take it back to the city, leaving it inside the armory. After all, it was a token of the enemy he had defeated. 

The blades….what metal are they made of?

Balian studied Sir Lucan's warhammer as he strapped it on his back. The material seemed very similar to the creature's axe. Maybe that was their weakness? 

"Your blades could do no harm to them," Athena had said. "Only his own axe could."

If normal blades didn't affect them, why had it worked for Sir Lucan?

Balian was still deep in thought when King Leandis turned around.

He gasped.

Balian glanced over his shoulder and felt equally as shocked. "What...?"

Athena sat on the Golden Throne.

"Woman! How dare you? Sitting on the king's throne is punishable by death!" Sir Lucan called out, marching forward.

"Wait," Balian said, holding out a hand toward Sir Lucan. "Athena! Come down from there. It's not allowed."

"What're you doing?" Sir Lucan asked with confusion.

"Maybe she doesn't know," Balian said quietly. He looked back to the throne. "Please, get off the king's throne."

Athena didn't move. Instead, she continued looking around at the room from her new vantage point.

"I always thought a throne like this would make you feel more powerful. Like a god. Is it true? Is this really the highest seat in the entire city?" Athena said. She continued without a response. "Ah, but it doesn't feel any different. I'm sitting on a fortune worth more than some of the wealthiest in the world, yet…the air you breathe is still the same up here. If anything, up here I feel more open and more…vulnerable."

Why won't she listen? Balian made his way up the steps, grabbing her by the arm. "You cannot sit there, madam."

"Says who? Your law?" Athena asked as Balian escorted her down the steps.

The king passed her on his return to his seat. Before Balian could react, Leandis reached out and smacked Athena across the face. A red mark formed quickly on her cheek. 

To Balian's surprise, she did not cry.

"It is my law," King Leandis said sternly. "The law of your king."

"You are not my king," Athena said, frowning. "I haven't one."

What? Balian thought. Is she insane? Talking to the king like this was treason. He squeezed her arm tighter. "Athena, you cannot-"

"Enough with what I can't do," she snapped, looking him in the eyes. "I'm free, unlike you. Free to do what I want. I don't follow orders like you. I take what I'm given, and I do what I want."

"Close your mouth, wench," King Leandis said, sitting back down on his throne. "You see, the thing about law is that it doesn't matter if you follow it or not. Either you do follow it, and there are no issues. Or you can break the law and face arrest or the possibility of execution. Either way, the law still stands."

"Sir, I believe execution may be harsh-" Balian started.

"Get this impertinent maggot in chains. Put her in the dungeons," King Leandis ordered.

The five men who had dragged the creature in now had unused chains. One of them rushed forward and bound Athena's hands.

"A dungeon won't contain me," Athena said. "I've lived in them for years, watching other prisoners rot away. But I promise you, I won't be there for long."

"Correct," said the king. "Because I will have your execution tomorrow morning, madam."

Athena looked stunned, glancing at Balian for help.

Instead, he looked down at the golden tiles beneath his boots. There was nothing he could do about it. The king's order was final.

"Get her out of my sight," King Leandis ordered the soldier, and he began pulling Athena out of the hall. 

The other four men gathered up the creature's leftover armor, one piece at a time.

Soon, the only thing that remained of the incident were the cracks in the floor. 

"Do you have something to say?" King Leandis asked, and Balian looked up with surprise.

Then, he kneeled. "No, Your Grace. Nothing to add."

"You are dismissed. Both of you," the king said, looking at Sir Lucan. "I need a moment alone."

"Understood," Sir Lucan said, kneeling. Then he followed Balian out of the Golden Hall. "Wait for me," he called out.

"Stop following me," Balian said, keeping his eyes forward.

"Why? I already know where you're going. It's the same place I'm headed," Sir Lucan said, now walking next to him.

"And where is that?"

"The tavern," he responded.

They followed the long stone hallways, lit only by a small torch. Their boots echoed off the walls as they walked.

"I'm not headed to the tavern," Balian lied. "It's morning now. The sun's just risen."

"It's never too late for a drink, good sir," Sir Lucan said with a smile.

Balian smirked. "Or too early. Will the king not need you back?"

"He's likely to sleep soon. I doubt he'll need me for a few more hours."

They began down a long set of stairs.

"I need some sleep too," Balian said with a yawn. "Enemies never can pick the right time, can they?"

Sir Lucan shook his head. "I suppose not."

"Agh," Balian said, shielding his eyes from the sun as the two made their way out into a courtyard. Horses neighed as they passed the stables.

"Burne, how is she?" Balian asked the stableboy as they passed. He could see Garlin in the shadows of one of the stables, and she snorted at him with recognition. 

Burne stood, dusting off his torn pants. "She's 'appy as ever m'lord," the boy responded with a thick voice. "I've brushed 'er and all that. Feedin' her now, m'lord."

Balian nodded, flipping the boy a coin. "Good kid." 

He and Sir Lucan exited the courtyard and made their way out of the castle. 

The city was booming with energy. Balian and Sir Lucan pushed through the crowd silently until they reached their tavern. 

A sign hung outside the door:

BEDLAM'S TAVERN & INN 

Balian shoved open the door with his shoulder and it creaked open. 

The inside was dark, the only source of light being a candle at each table. The room was nearly empty, except for a group of men huddled in the corner.

Balian and Sir Lucan sat down at a table and a large woman waddled over to them. Mistress Bedlam, the owner's wife, Balian remembered.

"Sir Balian. Sir Lucan," she greeted them. "What may I get you? As always, it is on the house."

Balian didn't spare a moment to consider. "Ale. As much as you can spare, madam."

"Sir Balian, I can't keep helping you drown your broken heart," she said kindly. "Ale is like water. You can easily drink a lot of it. May I get you something a little stronger? There's a new concoction going around. I hear it came from East Rothal. One cup of it and you're set."

"Just ale," he responded shortly. "I'll pay for it myself, however many drinks it ends up being. And it's just Balian. Not Sir."

She glanced at his armor and frowned. "Fine, Balian. Sir Lucan, what may I get you? It is 'Sir', correct?"

"Correct," Sir Lucan affirmed. "I suppose I'll…just have mead. Thank-you, madam."

"Right away," she said and set to work behind the counter. 

"Balian," Sir Lucan said, unstrapping his warhammer and setting it down next to the table. "I hope…I hope you do know that you're worthy. You've achieved enough to be knighted. You're a damn General of thousands of knights, after all."

"Luke…I don't want to hear it," Balian said tiredly. 

"King Leandis wouldn't reject your request. I could recommend it to him, even."

"It's just a title. Just as General is. Besides, I'm not ready."

"You've been ready. What more do you need to do?"

Mistress Bedlam arrived with their drinks. Two ales for Balian and a mead for Sir Lucan. "I'll get you more once your thirst requires it," she said to Balian.

He nodded and she left to check on her other customers. 

"And what the hell was with that girl?" Sir Lucan continued. "The audacity! The insolence! I've never seen anything like it."

Balian said nothing, instead choosing to take multiple gulps from his mug. 

Sir Lucan paused. "Sorry. You didn't…actually fancy her, did you?"

Balian coughed into his mug. "Fancy her? What are we, ten? No."

Sir Lucan eyed him.

"No!" Balian repeated. "Look, she was pretty, alright?"

"Ha, pretty insane, more like it. And now soon to be pretty dead."

Balian opened his mouth to speak when another voice interrupted him. 

"Come on, wench. Ten copper was generous. It's more than enough for a night with a woman like you."

Balian spun in his chair, watching as one of the drunken men sitting in the corner stood, waving a flabby hand at Mistress Bedlam. "Give me what I want, woman!"

Balian stood.

"Wait, Balian, you should-" Sir Lucan began.

He marched toward the man stepping in between him and Mistress Bedlam. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"The tavern wench isn't putting my money to good use! She won't listen-"

Balian smacked the man across the face with a gloved hand. He fell backward onto the table, knocking it over, moaning in pain.

The punk's four friends stood. 

"That was a mistake, knight," one of them said. 

"Four of us, only one of you, cunt," another added.

Sir Lucan stood, wrapping his hand around the handle of his warhammer.

"No," Balian said, remembering the cracks the warhammer had left in the gold floor. "That thing might kill them, even if you go easy, Sir Lucan. No, I'll do this myself."