A Tale of Crown and Country

Morto

"What do you mean you lost her?" Crolimus paced the room. If emotions were visible he would have been veiled in fiery anger.

    Duren leaned casually against the wall. The man was used to these explosions and knew better than to provoke the king.

    Morto Domev and his band of men did not have the advantage of this knowledge.

    "We didn't lose her," the leader said, careful to keep his tone in check. As much as he rebelled against the kingdom he had the wisdom to remain in check around the king. "She escaped."

    Crolimus stopped pacing; he looked as if he was ready to squeeze the man's throat shut. He might have exploded in anger, but he calmed himself before speaking.

    "Escaped?" he asked in an oddly low voice. "A fifteen year old princess escaped out a three storey window surrounded by bandits? I just..." he searched for the right words, careful to keep his strangely calm tone, "find that hard to believe." His smile did nothing to appease the people in the room. If anything it made tensions rise between Morto and the king.

    "She must have had help."

    "Domev," the king squeezed his fist shut, as if to alleviate the inner urge to strangle the man. "I'm not mad, I am simply disappointed."

    "Really?" he asked hesitantly.

    "No!" Crolimus burst. He wanted to throw something but they were in Duke Neir's home in Regros, and the room had been conveniently emptied of breakable vases and fragile furniture. Instead, he opened and closed his fists a few times to relieve the stress. "I want my daughter found, and I want her found now," he commanded. "I don't care what it takes. Use force if you must. She'll be back in Aldira before the week is up or furthest you'll be roaming is a stone and steel cube."

    "She was with a boy."

    "I don't want the boy. To hell with him; I want my daughter back."

    "And our payment?"

    "After she's returned to me. Not a moment sooner. Oh, and Domev?"

    Morto glared at the king; it was growing more and more difficult to keep his usually controlling temper in check.

    "Any more delays and that sack of gold earns a slit at the bottom."

    Morto nodded knowingly. He didn't like it, but even with a depletion of the earnings the king was still about to give him and his men the biggest pay day they'd ever received. The bandit leader didn't mind kidnapping the girl; he didn't even mind hurting those who got in his way, but he was not going to kill anyone, if that was what the king meant by "what it takes". Though most considered him a villain he had his morals. He didn't even mind the negative opinion of him and his men; it gave them authority. Morto embraced the rumours of their ruthlessness. He'd come to define himself by them, it made his transformation all the more complete. The less that tied him to his past the better. And an obsession with money didn't hurt. It might not have been his absolute favourite part of the job, but it kept the men happy; and happy men didn't like killing people.

   Morto Domev and his trusted friends left the king's presence with a goal and perhaps even a destination. He was sure the men would enjoy a good old fashioned hunt. It wouldn't be difficult keeping up the angry persona of Morto Domev, bandit leader while the king's threats and anger resided in his memory. The only issue would be keeping his number one rule: no deaths on his hands. Morto wasn't sure what he'd do if they encountered the boy again. Would his men be angry enough to go beyond injuring him?