Cambolton's Fall

Chapter Four

"What makes you think," began King Oval, "that your group could help my kingdom? You're made up of a drunkard, a university student, a foreigner and a minstrel!" He scoffed then, turning his head to the side. It was obvious though, that he was watching for Bards reaction. Whether or not he was aware, Bard looked surprised. When the shock showed on his face, the king turned his smug, triumphant smile on the group. "You think that I wouldn't send my men to do some research when an unlikely group asks for such a hasty meeting?"

"Your Majesty, I know that our group may seem like an odd match, but I can assure you that we can be of use." Though his voice was steady, Brin saw him begin to fidget slightly under the chubby man's scrutiny. Bards feet shuffled slightly on the decorative carpet beneath him.

"My sources tell me that the threat to the East, from a man named Varos, is not to be concerned with. Their numbers may be large, but not nearly as large as my mighty army." He leaned back and threw his arms wide, as if gesturing to the kingdom. "Added to that, I have been assured that if their army was larger than mine, it would take them over a year to move across The Great Divide."

"I understand that it may seem unlikely, but I have reason to believe that they are already crossing the Kenqan Abyss." Bard said. He seemed to be backpedaling.

I guess it would be hard to explain to a superior that we were sent here on a quest from a god, with promises of riches and power. The thought made Brin smile.

The action got the guards attention and he took a slight step forward. "Something funny boy? Do you think my men's report to be wrong as well? Have you ever seen the Abyss? I've been several times and this time of year it is almost impossible to cross. I know of only a handful of captains crazy enough to even attempt the journey. Surely there are not enough of them to make the crossing for an entire army."

The king chimed in from behind the guard then, "The losses would be catastrophic. I'm no strategist, but even I can realize this."

Bard took a small step backward, definitely not expecting this much resistance. Brin just shrugged at the guard then, which only seemed to make the other man more irritated.

The silence began to grow in the room. Bard looked to be deep in thought, glancing back and forth between the king and the bearded guard. Color was visibly rising in Gavira's cheeks, outwardly showing her embarrassment that they were making such fools of themselves in front of the king. Brin turned slightly to look at Warrel, and couldn't help but smile. The older man was standing behind Bard and Gavira, out of both of their views. He was holding his jug up over their heads, shaking it slightly, gesturing towards the guard.

He's offering that stiff a drink!? Brin could barely contain his laughter. The noise that escaped his sealed lips cut through the ice that seemed to be spreading around the room. As a bit of noise sputtered out, he looked up and made eye contact with Warrel. The older man was already looking at Brin and when Brin saw his wink, his laughter was unchained. The laughter rolled easily from his chest; a split second later, Warrel joined him.

Though Bard was certainly still uncomfortable, Brin could see the tension flow from him. His shoulders relaxed and his spine straightened.

All eyes turned to the two mad men. Everyone, except for the guard, was completely confused. The armored man seemed barely able to contain his seething rage. Brin was sure that this was not how normal meetings with the king went.

Oval stood, his heavy cushioned chair sliding backward, almost toppling over. His round face going from confused to bright red in a matter of seconds. "What is the meaning of this?" His voice growing in volume. It was obvious that he was embarrassed. He probably thinks we're laughing at him.

As Brin's laughter tapered to a stop, he wiped his eyes and looked back at the room. All eyes were turned towards him. With the tension gone he could appreciate a bit more of the room. The smell was delightful; a mix between cinnamon and rich wine. He noticed for the first time that the lamps did not stutter or flicker. Which meant that they were most likely mage lights in glass containers, rather than natural flames. Guess the barrier doesn't extinguish all magic.

"Why don't we go look to see if they are staging an invasion?" Brin asked, almost without thinking.

The short, round man paused for a moment. "I don't need you to go look for me. I have people who can look for me."

Brin looked to Bard, hoping that he would talk for him. Unfortunately the lanky man just stared back at him, looking a bit peeved. I hate talking. Brin sighed, "That's true... but think, if you send us, one of two things could happen. First, we find that there is an army of undead on your doorstep. Then you know you have a war to fight. Second, we travel to the other side of Drule and there's nothing to be found, then you will have gotten rid of us and will have a good laugh."

The guard seemed as if he were about to explode, "You will address -"

He was silenced as the king raised his hand and made a small clicking noise with his tongue. "I do believe that I like the idea of ridding myself of you four. Rolinar I can say from our past experiences that I like you as a minstrel, but most definitely not as a man." Brin saw the words cut into the younger man, who looked as though he had been physically struck. King Oval continued unfazed, "I will allow you to travel through Drule and report what you find at Cambolton Citadel. I will have my steward write you a writ of travel to be taken with you. It will allow you to stay where you need along the way, but it will not give you any exemptions by way of tolls or difficulty with the law."

Bard seemed to recover some of his wit then, "Thank you. Majesty, I assure you that you will hear from us again soon." He bowed low.

The king just nodded, and plopped back down into his cushioned chair. Brins eyes seemed to shine at the guard as he passed to open the door. Brin, being at the back of the group, turned and led the way out of the warm chamber into the cool, stone hallway. Warrel followed him, making that drunk hiccup sound as he passed the guard. Brin could hear his leather boots drag and shuffle quickly, most likely Warrel had tripped over his own feet. A muffled apology and chuckle could be heard.

The old guide was waiting for them a short ways down the hallway, so Brin continued down towards him not waiting to see if the rest of the group was following.