Betrothed

Chapter One: The Pachenthou Pub

It was a time of peace, yet a time of strange uncertainty for the kingdom of Nadeau. Nestled beside the Andjety mountains, it was a wealthy kingdom comprised largely of farmland. The city of Nadeau, of which the kingdom was named, sat at the very far west of the kingdom, along the coastline. Merchant ships lined the piers with their sails and riggings reaching high into the sky. The palace sat at the north of the city, with towers peaking at every corner of the citadel. The square had a multitude of markets and bazaars, with a stage set in the middle to allow the royal guard to make public announcements in the hearing of the people.

The rest of the kingdom jetted out east, beyond the two mountains, and spilled out into a valley of farmland. From one side of the kingdom to the other would take eight days on horseback, twelve days by carriage, and no one knows how long if you walked it by foot. In fact, if you chose to walk from the farthest east of the kingdom, to the west towards the city of Nadeau, you most likely would be robbed, kidnapped, killed, or perhaps all three. The middle part of the kingdom, directly beneath the Andjety mountains, was considered the most treacherous part of the kingdom—where thieves and marauders hid out and hunted wayward travelers.

Six days' ride from the capital city, towards the plains, and past the mountains, lay a small farm village called Pachenthou. Pachenthou was settled mostly by farmers whose farms surrounded the village. But the village itself centered around the local pub, where the menfolk would gather on certain nights, spin yarns and drink rum or ale.

Balen was a local farmer that spent almost every night in the pub, though he rarely drank. He was an older man, with brown hair salted with gray, and a bald spot in the middle of his scalp. He was of stocky build, not like a farmer from plowing fields, but rather like one who had once trained as a soldier. His constant facial expression told the story of one who had seen more than his fair share of tragedy, though his demeanor was kind and serene. The local towns people accepted him as one of their own, a farmer by trade.

Each night he would sit in the pub and listen to the town gossip. He kept himself aware of the events that trickled down from Nadeau to their village. He seldom interacted. It was as if he was waiting for some specific news to reach the town, but never did. He would sometimes sit at a table in the middle of the room, and listen to multiple conversations in the pub, or he would stand at the bar and converse with the owner of the pub about news that was being chatted about the town.

One night, as Balen stood at the bar of the pub, two royal envoys burst through the door. This was strange, since there was nothing in the village or the surrounding area to interest the crown. All conversations within the pub ceased and every eye was one the official men. The two strangers were dressed in royal blue and red, each wearing an official insignia indicating they represented the king. The first man was fortyish in age. He obviously appeared experienced as an envoy. The second man was young and appeared rather new to how an envoy would normally carry himself. The envoys approached the bar and laid a royal letter from the king down on the bar opposite the owner.

"His majesty, King Malcom the Merciful, has ordered that any, every, and all villages upon which his royal envoys stop, must supply such envoys with whatever provisions that are necessary, and will be compensated at twice the cost of the provisions provided." At that declaration, the younger of the envoys dropped a velvet bag on the counter which gave out a clattering sound from the gold coins inside. Curious whisperings softly filtered throughout the room.