Redcrown: Book 1

Chapter 1

"One more word, you little shit and I'll gut ya, you hear?" The pig faced man screamed. His rage was directed at a poor boy no older than twelve, a decrepit little thing whose skin clung to his bones like a babe to their mothers bosom.  The Pig snorted. "Now get out of 'ere 'fore I drain you dry." His pot-belly wobbled for a moment as he began to walk away. However, he soon ceased such action.

"But please, sir, I can't -"  The noise that followed ripped through the air as though it were a gunshot. Before I could even blink the frail boy that once stood only a couple feet away from the pig had been banished from his position and found new residence as decoration for the wall behind him, how his small body didn't turn into red paste from the impact I will never know, though to hazard a guess, I'd say The Pig had second thoughts about killing him at the last moment.

Looking back from the boy I saw The Pig's posture straighten up from his usual slouch, causing the buttons on his pasty collared shirt to almost scream in agony from the pressure of his stomach pressing against them, as though at any moment they'd rip in two.

"I thought I told you not one more word kid. Now, how's it gon' look if I let you little rats get off with ignoring my words?" The pig waddled forward until he was upon the now crumpled up boy, his sobs would normally have been rendered invisible under the hum and drum of the east side streets, however the commotion had silenced all but the most distant slaves. None would dare make a sound louder than a knight's voice, lest they draw their attention.

"Suppose I'll haft' teach you a lesson, won't I?" If there was one thing I could not stand more than Pigs voice, it was his smile. Such a disgusting act that conjured vomit from the deepest parts of my stomach that only pure animosity could suppress. His scarred tongue swept across his blackened teeth whilst his cheeks strained to contort his chubby infected lips into a smile, exposing his yellow-stained fangs.

"Now now"- I darted in-between Pig and the boy, hands raised as one would when trying to calm an enraged animal - "That would not be a good idea, Sir Groim." None would dare call Groim 'The Pig' to his face unless they wished to find out exactly how he had earned the nickname.

The Pig began to chuckle, a bit of spit exploding from his mouth and landing on my cheek, causing me to almost reflexively lunge for his throat, an urge quickly supressed with better judgement. "And why's that, uhm..." Pig looked at the numbers on my slave rags, squinting and slouching slightly as he did so "seven...three...two." Quickly straightening and looking pleased with himself as he finished reading the name tag.

"Because Sir Groim, Flint here is among Lady Elaine's favourite blood-bags." I turned to the boy and shot him a smile before slowly turning back to Pig."And for whatever reason, the fair lady is fond of him. If he's unable to attend the next feeding session or Emperor forbid, she discovers someone else has been feeding on her pet...well." Pigs shit-eating grin vanished as he contemplated. The skin where his eyebrows had once sat creased, and I realised this pathetic lump of waste was struggling to connect the dots, Emperor's sake, how did this cockroach ever get knighted.

"She would come looking for a culprit, wouldn't she, my lord. And of course, we would defend you, but as you know, Lady Elaine is very quick to..." A momentary pause to really sell the idea to this puss-riddled pig. "Find someone to blame, wouldn't you say so, my lord?"

Pig stared for a long moment, and then simply turned around and walked away for a few steps before what could have been mistaken for a electric shock shot up his spine, I sighed, it seems he had remembered.

"Seven-three-two! Ha! You're that one boy whose blood smells like roses! Knew I remembered ya from somewhere." That damn grin spread from ear to ear on his face once again, causing my head to turn up and my eyes to cringe.