The Will Of The Kings.

Will Of The Kings.

Farnbreth rose up out of the land like an island from the sea. Approached from any direction, a traveller could see the haze that hung over the city, made from thousands of cooking fires, for nearly two days' walk, before seeing the city itself. It was vast; in fact Farnbreth could swallow the cities of Kadrandoo and Balnoor and still have room to spare. Farnbreth had grown and prospered in its land and now was a capital with a country, rather than a country with a capital. Surrounding the city were great swathes of farmland that ran on for miles, supplying the people with all they could eat. Once through the farmland, you would enter along one of the huge roads lined by thousands of low, rickety, wooden-framed buildings, many of them little more than shacks. These were the homes of the common folk, the people who worked the land or scraped a living in Farnbreth. Those who dwelt in the citadel did not consider the rest of Farnbreth's bulk as part of their own city, but now there was no break in the buildings from the suburbs through to its grand centre. The only distinctions were the changes in the buildings themselves. The closer you lived to the centre, the wealthier you were, and more of the expensive stone you could afford. At the city's heart was the citadel, with its walls rising up over the great expanse of buildings below. Within these walls lived the high families of Farnbreth, and at the very centre stood the castle and royal palace.

Balor looked up at the citadel, which dominated the horizon, as he tossed another bale of hay up onto the cart. Baling was something he loved doing; it was simple hard work, which he was built for. Balor was one of the countrymen who lived on the very fringe of Farnbreth and worked the fields. He was huge. Standing, he presented a great hulk of a man, wide at the waist (due to his fondness of food) and with massive arms that had developed from working hard on the land since he was a child. He made baling look like easy work. To explain his extraordinary height, his mother had said that his father, and he in turn, descended from a line of people that had bred themselves to be bigger and stronger than all the others that lived around them. Whether or not that was true, Balor had no idea. He had not known his father, and his mother had passed away when he was very young. There were times when he missed her, but he had a happy life and he was well liked in his ward and had many friends.

Balor tossed another bale up onto the cart and then paused before sending up another. He heard raised voices coming from behind the barn. It was as good a time as any to take a break, so he decided he would go and see what it was all about. Balor strode around the corner and, standing in his coarse black trousers and rough white cotton shirt, he took in the scene before him. He could see James and Jay, two of his closest friends, arguing with a tall, lean looking man. His paler skin suggested that the stranger was from the city, although his clothes were much the same as theirs. He was not a wealthy man and probably from the outer suburbs. 'Could be trouble', thought Balor. He suspected the stranger had friends, although he could not see any from his vantage. From were he stood, they would have been hidden by the stables.

Vicnor and his company of eight men, all dressed in threadbare old cloths, were indeed from the city. They came from the parts of the city on which the lords had spent just enough money to avoid the neighbourhoods becoming slums, but it was not a lot, and it showed. Vicnor had made his way through life on the more unsavoury side and made what he had with the help of his small company. For some weeks now, they had been having quite a good time of it.

Several months had passed since the lords had taken half their men at arms south, to march against the lesser kings, whose lands to the south bordered the darker realms. The lesser kings had raided north and Farnbreth would respond by sending an army south. Every time that had happened, the rogues and thieves prospered, as there were fewer soldiers to patrol the streets. This time it had been different, for more men had been called for and the city's garrison had been stripped of its defences. With that, for the first time in generations, the city guard had been called up. The city guard comprised of inexperienced common countrymen armed with old weapons. Needless to say, the scum of Farnbreth were having a field day running circles around them as they went about their criminal business. Protection rackets had been set up, taking money from innocent people under the pretext of protecting their property, while robbing from those who refused to pay. Vicnor was one who had profited in this ruse and had decided to expand his horizons to see what the rural parts of Farnbreth had to offer. That decision had brought him to the barn where Balor and his friends were working.

James and Jay had found Vicnor and his company preparing to leave with whatever they thought had any value. James had challenged them. Vicnor looked at him with a mocking smile. He guessed James was not more than fourteen years old, while also standing shorter than him. Vicnor was wrong about James' age; he was eighteen, but young in the face.

James had launched straight in and challenged Vicnor. Naturally cautious, Jay had tried to curb James' advance, but had failed and now, not wanting to abandon his friend, stood next to him. Jay looked nervously at the seven rough-looking men who had temporarily halted their search and were now gathering around Vicnor. Vicnor thought how easy it would be to take on this apparent child. He chuckled to himself as he stepped forward, answering James' challenge.

"I am taking it for safe keeping, and protecting it against the sort of scum who may steal them from you," Vicnor said, giving a side glance to his men, who smiled at his fighting game.

James held his ground. Vicnor had a hard thin face and was confident. It showed. James was aware of the others who had gathered around, but was still defiant. "There is no one around here who would steal anything and we don't need any protection from you."

Vicnor could see that there was some fight left in this one, but he also guessed rightly that James had never really taken a beating. Vicnor continued his game. "Perhaps no one has told you that the army has marched south and the only people to replace them are the city guard, who could not stop a thief if he was robbing their own home. So, you see it's down to me to protect those who want to be protected, and that requires payment."

James had taken a step back, realising that the situation could become nasty, but he was not about to be threatened like that, especially when it was coming from city filth like Vicnor. "Like I said, we don't need protection, so take yourself and your friends back to the hole you call home and find someone who does."

Jay stood by his friend. He knew James would lose the contest, but could not quite believe he had put himself forwards. Nervously, he waited for it all to go very wrong.

"Hole!" Vicnor repeated the words through clenched teeth. This challenger would be taught the hard way, and his pathetic little friend as well. Vicnor gave a signal that neither James or Jay saw, and two of his company ducked back and through the tackle room, reappearing behind them.

Vicnor was ready for a fight. He turned on the two friends with rage and contempt in his eyes. "You scrap around in the dirt, sleep with animals and look more like pigs than men", Vicnor slammed a fist into James' belly, who bent over trying to catch his breath. Vicnor hammered his clenched fists down on the back of his neck, sending James pitching forward onto his knees. With an outstretched arm, James stopped himself from falling on his face. Vicnor kicked his arm away and forced him to the floor with a boot to his back.

James could do nothing. Visibly winded, he felt as if he had been hit by a hammer and was doing all he could to catch his breath. He had gone down hard and now he was lying on the ground with his face in the dirt.

Jay saw his friend go down and went in with a wild ferocity that had suddenly welled up inside him. He went for Vicnor, attempting to push him off James, but was blocked by two other men. Jay slammed his fist into one of the faces, splitting the man's nose and forcing him to stumble back holding his face. Before Jay could do anything more, the second man dropped his shoulder into him and used the momentum to pin him onto the stable wall. Jay had stars in his eyes and his belly felt as if it had been split open. Before he could present anymore trouble, he was being held tight by Vicnor's company.

Balor had rounded the stables to come up behind Vicnor, and whoever may have been with him, narrowly missing the two men who had been sent through the tackle room to make sure his friends had nowhere to run. Those two now looked on, a little frustrated that they had missed the fun. It had happened so fast that, by the time Balor came around the corner, his friends were already beaten. Eight men stood around them, but only two of them saw Balor. It was all they could do to warn their friends that a great beast of a man was about to upset their party.