The Witch's Retribution

Chapter 9

Liam pulled off his helmet as he entered the tent, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and his shirt to his back. The armor began to feel like a prison with the sweltering summer heat. The flap of the tent lifted, and Xan walked in, his tanned face red with streaks of dirt smeared across one cheek.

"Been rolling around in the dirt, Xan?" Liam joked with a smirk.

Xan snorted. "Of course, Sire. It's what us servants do for fun these days, you know, when we're not running around after our arrogant masters."

"You still think I'm arrogant?"

"You boasted about your last victory for nearly an hour."

"It was a great victory."

Xan muttered something under his breath that the prince couldn't decipher as Xan took the helmet from Liam and sat it down on the nearby table. Without being told, he turned back to the prince and began tugging at the straps on Liam's arms, pulling away the armor piece by piece.

"I think many of my opponents still harbor grudges against me for my victory last year." Liam said. "They don't seem to be holding back this year."

"That's good, isn't it? Keeps you on your toes." Xan's fingers moved to the straps at Liam's shoulders. "They say the tournament may be put on hold until later this evening because of the heat. I saw several knights heading to Eldon with complaints. Even His Majesty looks ill...." He moved away, leaving Liam in his chainmail, and dropped the heavy armor onto the table.

"Yes, Xan, it's hot. There's no need to keep prattling on about it."

"I see the heat's affecting you as well," Xan replied dryly, "and I am not prattling. Merely making conversation."

"You do realize it isn't appropriate for a servant to be 'making conversation' with his lord."

Xan tensed, glancing up at Liam quickly before looking away. "I suppose not."

Liam placed a hand on Xan's shoulder, frowning when the servant flinched. "I was kidding, Xan. If I minded anything you did, I would have rid myself of you long ago."

"Eldon told me the same." Xan flashed a weak grin at the prince. "He said you'd be lost without me."

"Well, I'm not quite sure that's true." Liam pretended to be offended before his attention was drawn away.

A loud commotion sounded from outside the tent, people shouting and running past. Liam grabbed his sword from the table and rushed outside, Xan quickly following. Other knights were exiting their own tents, all wearing curious expressions. No one seemed overly concerned, most likely thinking it was another skirmish over tournament disagreements. They occurred far too often.

There were too many people rushing about, and Liam turned to Xan. "Find out what's happened."

Xan nodded and rushed off, disappearing into the frantic crowd. He returned within minutes, wide-eyed and gasping for breath. "I-it's the king, Sire. He's collapsed."

Liam pushed Xan aside and strode into the crowd, the people stepping aside as he was recognized. Murmured voices of "it's the prince" and "His Majesty's collapsed" filled his ears, but he barely heard them over the pounding of his heart. He couldn't lose his father already. He was far from ready to be king, and there was much he didn't trust himself to do without his father's guidance, however misguided it might be sometimes.

As he reached his father's side, the king's crown lying in the dirt beside them, he feared the worst. The king was breathing, albeit shallow, quick breaths, and several knights stepped forward to help Liam get his father onto his feet. Xan pushed through the crowd, gaining dirty looks, as Liam and the knights helped the king towards the castle. Xan bent down to retrieve the abandoned crown and brushed the dirt from it with shaking hands, the light catching at his scarred arm.