The Bandits of Infinity Forest

Chapter Four

The soldiers unlock the door and I step into the courtyard as the portcullis closes behind us: there's no escape.

A soldier nudges me forward with a halberd and, with a small retinue around me, I march glumly toward the Keep. The wagon train and horses clatter away in another direction.

"Where're they going?" I ask, before I can stop myself. "Where am I going?"

"I got a messenger th' other day," the captain, who is marching beside me, answers gruffly, to my surprise, "sayin' King Luther w'nts to meet with ya first, th' others're goin' straight to prison."

My heart sinks: I do not feel like meeting the king.

Arriving outside the Keep's gates, the captain knocks briskly on the iron and they swing open.

We march on, for what seems like hours, 'til we're standing outside a pair of thick, silver doors embossed with gold.

The guards standing in front of the doors move aside, pulling them open as they do so. One shoots me a dirty look.

"I bring you Jedi, yer majesties," the captain announces as he steps ahead of me.

I step through the doorway onto a rich red carpet, the doors swing shut, and we begin to walk down the long room.

The throne room is hard to see, because of the hazy mist filling it. There are whispers and stifled groans coursing through the empty room, causing the hair to rise on the back of my neck, and the only light so far is an eerie glow ahead.

I had forgotten the king was a sorcerer.

"Ah," an oily voice slithers through the air, and I see the king for the first time, seated on his throne, the queen and his three daughters at his left, and his three sons to his right, the heir, his oldest, a son, is about my age: eighteen, "it's lovely to finally meet you, Jedi, son of Jenkiff."

I flinch, and he smiles cruelly.

"Yess," he purrs, "that was your father's name, wasn't it? Poor, moon-addled fool. He picked the wrong choice."

His face hardens momentarily as he sees my glare, then he relaxes, and speaks gently.

"You also have a choice, but a higher one than your father ever dreamed of. I hear from my spies that you have brains, boy, and have power over animals, also that you are trustworthy, and men far older than you do your bidding."

I stiffen, realizing our whereabouts had been betrayed, and fearing the viper hidden amongst the clover.

"I like these attributes, so tell me: are you one of those dragon maniacs?"

I keep my face expressionless and say nothing, knowing it's a trap.

The king chuckles and leans back, tenting his fingers. "Wise," he says drily. "Now, I have a marvellous opportunity for you: as you probably know, I have dominion over the dragons. In fact, I have the few remaining ones locked in this very castle. But, though they are in my power, they refuse to execute my will."

I grow cold, while his horrible voice becomes dangerously persuasive.

"I need a smart, good-with-animals person to help convince them, by any means necessary, to obey me. You could be that person. I will give you lodgings in this castle, or build you a mansion anywhere you wish, you will have any supplies you ask for, and daily pay of ten thousand pounds- as well as other rewards. And," he winks, "I may give you one of my daughters in marriage."

The girls gasp and glare at me, their brothers look shocked, but the king and queen seem quite unconcerned.

"Well?" continues the king. "What say you?"

I can't find my voice, but finally manage to spit out, "No."

King Luther looks startled, "What did you say?"

"No!" I repeat. "Never!" I'm seething with anger. "You killed my family for-for wanting to help the poor creatures you're tormenting! Why would I agree to work for you?!"

Luther's face grows hard, "What if I threatened that if you don't, you will follow your family?"

He changes tact and tries to speak kindly. "I will give you everything you've ever wanted," he wheedles, "I can make you my heir!"

I don't see his son's reaction: I'm staring at the carpet, trying to control the sudden tears that still appear even after eleven years of missing my family. His next words banish them.

"Well, what about it? Look up here, please."

I stare defiantly at his weasely, triumphant face, so smug and sure he's won.

"Never," I snarl, "I'd rather die."

His patience finally snaps. "Die you surely will!!" he roars furiously. "Take him away and lock him up!"

The captain and his soldiers seize my arms and drag me grimly away from the raging king, to the dungeons.