Anchorites. chapter 3. the unknown king

CHAPTER THREE. THE UNKNOWN KING

Alpin looked much older and stronger than a kid of his age should have been. This unsightly but good-natured thirteen-year-old boy was known the entire district of the village, but no one cared that, as a young man, he did almost all the household chores. He was the son of Geodor of the Arvus family and his wife Salina. The Arvuses were not fabulously wealthy, but compared to the rest of Bryson Hill, they seemed quite well-off.
Salina passed away three years ago, leaving Alpin and Geodor. Both of them suffered this loss very hard. But over time, sadness turned to light sorrow. For the last year, Geodor began to complain about a sore back (he had just turned sixty-five), so Alpin had to take responsibility for the household and the welfare of the family yard. Life in Bryson Hill seemed serene and calm despite the disturbing rumors spread by local idlers and gossipers at the tavern over a glass of ale. This village was one of the places that had not yet wiped out the hunters from the west, and the fact that Bryson Hill was a backwater district seemed to play an important role.
Almost all local residents thought that way. Except Arvuses, that knew the real explanation of this incredible luck. They had a big secret.
Geodor Arvus was a real wizard, in time immemorial, even Taurentius could not surpass his power, but now Geodor lived, as they say, undercover, having established himself as a simple-minded and quiet old man. During his youth, Arvus lived in the capital and was one of the most influential people at the royal court. When the man, who had already lived and seen more than he wanted, decided to retire, he chose a village forgotten by the Five, on the edge of a dark nameless forest, and settled there with his beloved woman. Among people who were far from the capital’s life, who were more interested in the spring planting and autumn harvest, evening gatherings at the local tavern and sincere conversations with drunken buddies. Where kings and wizards were perceived more as characters from bedtime stories told to children, or as interesting gossip coveted during the same evening gatherings at the tavern. Here, in the quiet and serene middle of nowhere, the Arvuses had an only child.
Bryson Hill was a very small village, just a few dozen cabins and dugout, a square, a local tavern, a market, and also a meadow by the forest and a well on the outskirts, that’s all. It was possible to go around the village along and across in less than an hour, and living here all his life, it was difficult not to meet each of the local residents. And there were no heroes or great minds among them: the common people, that’s it. Of course, except Geodor, skillfully fused with commoners.
Geodor had good reasons to keep his magical origins in secret, and his powers, which had been inapplicable for many years, were not weakened. By magic, Geodor defended Bryson Hill, making the village obscure to any enchanted creatures bearing aggression and destruction. The few inhabitants of the village could not even think whom they should thank for the peace and tranquility that reigned in the district. Geodor told his son his secret, just after Salina’s death. The man was sure that Alpin would remain silent as a fish, and for three years the lad was trustworthy.
The morning began as usual. The sun slowly illuminated the wooden roofs of frail houses, covered with hides and straw, the roosters of local farmers shouted, and people began to appear on narrow roads paved with stones, grumbling to themselves and dragging behind them handcarts with grain. Someone was taking the cattle out to pasture: not far from the forest, there were islets with bright green meadows. This is the only place where local people could graze the cattle. They always did something and it looked like a small anthill. The whole picture looked gray, but people got used to it and were quite happy with it. One day was replaced by another, but almost the same, and in this stability almost all residents of Bryson Hill found only positive aspects.
Woken up at the crack of dawn, Alpin had already fed a dozen hens of grain by lunch and had brought to the pasture a frail goat that looked very bad, but still gave milk, then he processed the beds of carrots, courgettes, tomatoes, cucumbers and sweet potatoes, clearing them of weeds, made firewood for the stove, then he went with two buckets to a fresh water well a few kilometers from the village towards the forest. This was the only source of water for the whole village, so going to the well became a tradition. Alpin began to go for water long ago and got used to heavy buckets. Leaving the village he greeted some of the villagers, even the mad old man Poltus, who always gave gloomy glances at people passing by his fence, and the owner of the tavern, Mr. Graus, enthusiastically invited the boy to sip a mug or two in the evening, although Alpin did not go to the tavern very often.  Today, however, it would have been impossible to refuse the invitation under any circumstances: Mr. Graus was celebrating his birthday and inviting everyone to a grand festivity, which was supposed to begin in the afternoon. Nevertheless, politely nodding and wishing Mr. Graus a good day, the boy turned away from the road and sped up his pace, fearing that he would not be able to bring water before dinner.
Alpin always tried to complete all the business before dinner, because in the afternoon he usually met with his friends at the fightplace (as the local ones called the tournaments, where mostly young people gathered and measured in fights) or in a meadow near the forest, which in the evening was always empty and was the ideal place for conversation and relaxation. Alpin had only two friends, but they were true friends: Aywa and Krauser had known Alpin almost since early childhood and had never given any reason to doubt themselves. He loved his friends and met them every day. And today was, one might say, a special day: Krauser planned to fight a local «champion» on wooden swords and needed a support group. And this fight promised to be very interesting. Alpin himself avoided fighting. No, not because he was afraid to fight or was not sure of his strength. This boy grew up a strong youth and in a moment of real danger could stand for himself and for his loved ones; just, perhaps, he was foreign to unjustified violence or some kind of this, so to these «fights» he was neutral and remained only in the role of observer.
When he reached the well, Alpin gathered two buckets of water, allowing himself to take a large sip. The sun was rising higher. It was going to be a very hot day.
The boy was sincerely happy about the new day. He always loved the morning for its freshness and anticipation of something incredibly interesting. Alpin, standing at the well every day and filling buckets with water, often recalled how, as young restless children, he and his friends ran along this uneven road, imagining great adventures and incredible events, waving wooden swords and imagining dragons and trolls, which friends would certainly defeat at the end of this exciting game. Over the years, these fun turned into only pleasant nostalgia. The days were and to this day remain quiet and unremarkable. Nevertheless, Alpin loved the morning very much, no matter what worries it was filled with.
On the way back Alpin sat down to rest. His hands began to whine with fatigue. He did not plan a long rest. Ahead of Alpin waited for another two kilometers of the road. The boy did not know that at that moment the tall old man knocked at the door of his father’s house. His name was Primus Halliboure. It is from the moment this stranger appears in Bryson Hill that our story began.
He was a very thin man wearing a high-collar road coat, high-heeled boots. He had hollow cheeks and hair down to his shoulders. Amidst the dim landscapes of Bryson Hill, the old man’s white hair seemed like a kind of flash, attracting the attention of neighbors, with the curiosity of staring at the stranger and without embarrassment of pointing fingers. The locals had never seen this old man, but for old Geodor Arvus this stranger was a longtime friend. They had not seen each other for a very long time, so the meeting promised to be extremely unexpected. By the way, this guest was uninvited, but visiting the old friend is not a sin at all, is it?
The door creaked open, and Geodor almost let his cane out of his hands. He stood for a few seconds, simply staring at an old friend, either not recognizing him completely, or trying to believe his own eyes, then took a few steps forward, trying to find the words.
"Primus?" the old man murmured in a voice not his own. "Gods, is that really you?"
The guest, without saying a word, smiled and shook his head to confirm. With their open arms, the longtime friends hugged each other. Geodor hasn’t seen Primus in almost fifteen years. The fact that the locals were far from the big world in both body and mind, was the reason that no one recognized the King of the capital Embry on the streets of Bryson Hill, arriving in person so suddenly.
That's right, Primus was the real current king who came all this way to meet an old friend. The last meeting took place at the wedding of Salina and Geodor, and now those times seemed so old, like it ended several centuries ago. As boys and later young men, Geodor and Primus grew up and matured together, and their families were friends until fate separated them. These were all affairs of bygone days, and now it is like a kaleidoscope of ghostly images that has passed before Geodor’s eyes. Soon he led the guest into the house, closing the door behind him.
"I can’t believe you’re here. How long has it been," exclaimed Geodor, limping and leaning on his cane, and hobbled to the stove to put the kettle on the fire.
"Time is passing, and we, my friend, are unfortunately not getting any younger," said the guest ironically, looking around. The house of an old friend seemed to him to be dark and cramped. Primus felt a lack of comfort, squinting slightly and looking around him, like never finding peace here.
"Have a seat at the table, Primus, please. And tell me what brings you by?" bursting with strange bittersweet joy and excitement said Geodor, setting a modest table for a guest. "How did you get to our village and how did you even find it? Are you tired of the harbor of the royal city?"
Primus grinned ironically, nodding. His friend Geodor was and still remained one of the few living people who knew how uncomfortable Primus was with the role of king and how much he was annoyed by pompous castles and royal etiquette. Primus was always too simple, too straightforward. Probably, he became much better commander and strategist than the ruler. Of course, none of the courtiers dared to say such a thing to the king, but one defiant best friend, now grown old. For this Primus always loved Geodor dearly. He was like a brother to him. And even more, to tell the truth.
"Can't believe you still live in Bryson Hill! That’s how long. How old is your son now? Dozen? More?"
"Thirteen, already," said Geodor. "He’s all grown up. You should have seen him, strong beyond his age. He does all the work himself. And without him I could not live in peace after the death of Salina. Praise the Five, Alpin has grown up a good and decent boy. He’s gone to the well now, but he should be soon. I’ll introduce you..."
Geodor stopped suddenly, pausing for a few seconds, and stared at his friend, even slightly suspicious.
"But how did you find me? How did find Bryson Hill at all? I hid this village from people’s eyes years ago..."
Primus laughed aloud, looking at his friend in a kind of condescending tenderness, as if at a child who was surprised at something completely ordinary for an adult's eye.
"First of all, I knew where your backwater corner was, I was at your wedding. And once you’ve seen this place, you can always find it, as you yourself explained it to me once. And second of all, are you so used to hiding that you’re already surprised by a simple visit from your best friend?"
Geodor, looking down a little, mumbled something, withdrawing into himself for a while. From the side it was clear that his thoughts were confused and he was in a slight confusion.
"So nothing has changed over the years? Do you still prefer to hide in this village?" Primus’s profoundly serious tone sounded a little absurd and even hilarious, his glance from under his brows and raised eyebrow gave the impression that the king now took his friend for a delinquent boy.
"Did you come only to ask me that?" Geodor just asked. Who, if not him, knew how much the king greatly appreciates the prefaces and in no case he would miss it.
Of course, Geodor understood that after a fifteen-year absence, Primus had come to the end of the world not only to talk about who was more comfortable living where. Something serious must have happened.
"Why are you here, Primus?" with obvious fear in his voice, Geodor suddenly asked.
Primus sat down on the old wooden chair with his hands on the table. Geodor paused for a few moments, as if thinking, but then shook his head clumsily, as if trying to drive out unwanted thoughts, and spoke in a quiet voice.
"My friend. The times of adventure and ambition are over for me, and the steps of blessed daring of the past are only good memories now. I chose this quiet and measured life many years ago, and since then my preferences hardly have changed. You knew that well, and you still know that, don’t you? You came here for my help, I know that for sure. But I’m not that desperate old Geodor anymore..."
"That’s why I tried not to bother you all this long time, my friend," said Primus, frowning. "The West is gripped by confusion and anxiety. It’s been going on for years. And the mountinours have become completely uncontrollable. You know, it’s always been uneasy around our lands, and that’s why we need valuable people like you. Especially if you have a lot of power in your hands."
Geodor took the kettle off the fire and quietly made an herbal tea, putting two tins on the table. He then sat down in front of a friend. At that point, his light upbeat mood changed completely. He understood what his guest was getting at. Perhaps Geodor has been afraid all these years of this moment, inevitable and exciting, when the past will again knock at his door.
"You have guarded Bryson Hill for many years, but nowadays the world around you is fragile and vulnerable more than ever. Embry Castle is no longer as powerful as it was ten years ago. Our army is almost defeated, we can no longer battle with the enemy as equal. You are far from all this, I know. I also know how you feel about what I’m saying right now. But trust me, I wouldn’t ask for your help if it wasn’t so serious."
"What kind of help are you talking about, Primus?" Geodor asked cautiously, never touching his tea.
"We are fighting with non-human forces. And this is much scarier than the simple hunters-ravagers. Big war is coming. It is already on the threshold and cannot be delayed or cancelled! The human sacrifices was just the beginning. We’re dealing with creatures, monsters we’ve never seen before, that will destroy everything if we don’t stop them. Taurentius, a black magician, sat in Evangard’s Tower, making plans and very ambitious. He slaughtered a race of fairies in an attempt to create invincible creatures for his new lethal army. Only the Five know at what point he will get the result. Maybe his new army is already at the approaches! Which means we have to be ready to hit the enemy with everything we have left in our arsenal, or we won’t stand up against him.  That is why I came to you personally, my old friend! It is time to serve your king again."
"Why did you think that I would be strong enough? I am old and sick. I have not fought for almost twenty years. I have forgotten the life you speak of now. It’s all in the past."
Primus laughed and sipped his tea. It didn’t take long for Geodor to understand what made the guest, who had remained completely serious a moment ago, laugh. The same man, putting the cup of tea back on the table, held his fingers on the wet mustache and beard and said firmly.
"Tell others these tales, my friend. But not to the person who grew up with you, went a long way with you and knows you like the back of his hand! You, my friend, are more alive than all the living, and your powers have not disappeared anywhere, no matter how you hide them. Otherwise, has Bryson Hill been standing safe and sound for so many years? And in answer to your question, no one knows about you, and if we manage to include you in the war in secret from the enemy, the element of surprise will play into our hands. If you come with me to Embry Castle, I’ll fill you in on all the details and strategies, and like the good old days, we’ll be the invincible team. Again, I wouldn’t have bothered you unless I absolutely had to. It’s very serious."
"So this is your goal? Do you want me to go west with you?" Geodor concluded a bit remotely, looking away at the window.
"I need you, friend. With your powers, with your abilities, leaving the world to chance is not fair in every way. And I know how heightened your sense of justice is. It’s always been. You must do your duty. For the sake of world peace. And for the sake of everything what happened between us, of our common past..."
"I can’t leave the village. Especially, my son. You ask me for the right things, but you don't understand what these right things will make me give up," said Geodor, continuing to stare at the window. "After so many years much has changed, You remember, I was already trying to do the right thing for the greater good, and you know how it ended. I lost Salina. Now all I have left is Alpin, and I don’t want to lose him."
Geodor looked out of the window again.
"Alpin is on its way. I would be grateful if you would spare him and not frighten the child with wars and looming threats. I beg you. Thank you very much."
The door creaked and Alpin was on the doorstep, holding two large buckets full to the edge. The boy translated a surprised look from his father to a stranger and back. After lowering the buckets to the floor next to the wall, the boy wiped his feet on the rag and walked into the room.
Primus looked up at Alpin from head to toe, and his frown changed to a cheerful look. Geodor pursed his lips: there was no turning back. Now a conversation was to begin, which would become the starting point in a story that should change everything, but in which direction - this will be decided with outcome of the meeting.
"So this is Alpin?"
Alpin smiled, but still, without saying a word, he remained silent, expecting an explanation from his father. Geodor was clearly concerned that his guest had immediately entered into a dialogue with his son, and hurried to intervene.
"Yes, here’s my son. Alpin, put the water on the fire and sit down with us. You must be tired. And this is Primus, my old friend. I haven’t seen him for fifteen years, can you imagine? And after all these years, he came to see me."
"Far away. From the west, from Embry Castle. You probably never heard of it. Your father used to live there too. Those were our best years!" Primus exclaimed a little smugly as he watched Alpin deftly lift a heavy bucket of water and then cleaned the place with a poker to put wood in the oven and spread a new fire.
Then Geodor whispered something like «Don’t you dare say anything to him». In response, Primus hissed too, but it was impossible to discern any words in the hiss. Alpin had already came to the table, gazing in wondering at both the old men.
"What’s going on here?" said the boy quietly.
Alpin put a board of sliced bread on the table and sat down on the empty chair.
There was an awkward and tense silence. However, Alpin was calm, continuing to look from father to guest. Therefore, it was about a minute.
"What are you for?" said Alpin, pouring himself tea. Of course, he spoke to a stranger.
"I'm Primus, your father's friend..."
"My memory is good. I’ve heard it before. I’m not asking about that at all," the young man interrupted the guest very politely. "I don’t know what’s going on here and now, and I was hoping you could tell me."
Geodor was looking at his friend, then shrugged and nodded. Primus put his hands on the table and got closer to Alpin, smiling kindly. The boy maintained a cool imperturbability.
"I came to invite your father to come on a little journey with me. To the place where I come from and where people need his help," said Primus.
Alpin was silent. Then Primus continued.
"In his youth, your father performed such feats that an ordinary man could not even dream of. His valor and courage knew no bounds. Until he married and had a family here in your little village, Geodor was the keeper of Embry Harbor and the whole royal castle. I don’t know if Father told you, Alpin, about his merits, but trust me, they were not few."
Alpin nodded. The boy also made it clear to the guest that he was aware of his father’s magical abilities, which surprised Primus sufficiently, but also elicited his approval. Primus told Alpin the whole point of his visit in a short and watertight manner. Nevertheless, that story, obviously, was not conclusive, as Alpin began to throw questions.
"And what help do you want from my father now? How can he help your people now?" He asked the guest calmly, though apparently he did not like the idea of his father’s old friend.
"For years now, turmoil has been looming over our lands", said Primus. "Darkness is coming from the west. The dark wizard Taurentius plans to take over all peaceful cities, his hunters ravaging villages. We do not yet fully understand what the end goal is, except the possibility to enslave or eliminate all free races of or lands. However, the capital has always been the seat of the royal dynasties, and it is our duty to do our utmost to protect the lands of Abbaddon. We have always had trouble, but before, riots were suppressed, eradicated quickly, including thanks to your father. Now it’s much worse. The real war is coming. In addition, our forces against the Taurentius army are, unfortunately, insufficient. We need help. It's time for your father's turn."
Alpin looked at his father, putting his hands on the table, and leaning closer to him to look directly into the old man’s faded-out eyes.
"Father," said the boy in a serious tone. "What this man says is true?"
"Yes," said Geodor groaning.
Alpin suddenly got up, went to the oven and began to clean the potatoes, throwing it into the soup pot. The boy didn’t say it directly, but he was against it.
"How long will you stay with us?" said Alpin loudly, without looking back at the guest. He poured some water into the pot and set it on fire.
"I came to pick up your father. And, frankly, I wasn’t planning on staying long. Time, you see, is rarely on our side," said Primus, catching Geodor’s reproachful look.
"My father had already left three years ago for a month, jumped at the call of conscience. I lost my mother that year," said Alpin, washing and cutting carrots. "The father is old, but the decision is his. If you’re saying the enemy is so strong, I don't understand why you place such a high stake on my father..."
"What a meticulous son you’ve got there," said Primus, and there was a note of irritation in his voice. The King remained calm as best he could, but he was clearly not accustomed to being confronted like this, openly. "Boy, perhaps you have not fully understood. War is coming. Real one. Dangerous one. We either gather all forces and fight back, or die. The third here is not given. We all could die very soon, do you realize it? React quickly, create strategy - that's what is needed here. I did not expect my visit to be welcome. I am a messenger with bad news. But as long as we all have something to lose. You are the faithful son of your father, Alpin, I respect that! I am the faithful king of all Abbaddon lands. I took an oath to protect you all. That’s all I want now!"
"Father," exhaled Alpin, glancing out at Geodor, who was in apparent confusion. "Will you say anything? Why are you silent?"
"Your father will be safe at Embry Castle. Like your village in his absence," assured Primus, without letting Geodor say a word. He went back to his descriptions of the impending danger and the King’s duty. Nevertheless, Alpin did not recognize this stranger as the ruler. The boy could not imagine that there are still kings in the world. All this for him was no more than nonsense.
"I see that the conversation has reached an impasse," said Geodor. "There will be a feast at the tavern tonight. We will drink a lot, listen to the music. Our ale is beyond praise. No worse than being served at the Royal Castle. If you are not in a hurry to leave Bryson Hill, come there."
The king chuckled. But he did not look like he was ready to surrender without a fight. Without answering anything, Primus nodded and stood up from the table and walked towards the exit.
"Primus, my friend. Don’t go so fast. Stay the night. The evening promises to be very pleasant. Let’s put aside our differences and just spend some time together, like good old times." added Geodor, sincerely wishing that this unexpected meeting would not be overshadowed by such a dubious ending.
The answer was only a grin. The king left as suddenly as he appeared on the streets of the village, leaving the father and the son together.
"You’re not going with this strange man, are you?" said Alpin hopefully, sitting across from his father and taking his hands.
"He’s a foreigner to you, I understand. But no matter how you feel about his visit, Primus is still our king..."
"He is the king, but not mine," said the young man of his father. Alpin did not hide his contempt for this «king». “I don’t believe him. And I don’t like this man. There have been, are and will be wars. Let those who need it take part in these skirmishes. Do not allow yourself to be drawn into problems that do not concern you. No matter what kind of king he is, he is still not the master of your life."
"Of course, he's not. He's still my beloved friend... Far, far away, but true... So, don’t you think I can do it? Am I still powerful enough for something like that?" Without a little bit of resentment, but Geodor asked most sincerely. "But your mother didn’t die because she lost my protection. You know that it was..."
"Mom gave her life for these places. This place is our home. Wasn’t that sacrifice enough? We have the strength to defend Bryson Hill from any enemy attack, as you have been convinced for many years, father. Why would you risk your life for people who didn’t care about you until today?"
"If Primus comes to the tavern tonight, we’ll talk again. To tell you the truth, I want to help him. Primus is the rightful king, and you can’t imagine how deeply I care about him, even if you don't see a reason for it now. Blood is not water, but friendship is not trifle. I will try to resolve this issue so that everyone is satisfied, please believe me. I'll finish to cook the soup, and you go meet your friends. I know you can't wait it. Just do not participate in the fighting. You know why."
"I remember," smiled Alpin, and embraced his father.
“Come to the tavern of Graus. Meet me there for his birthday celebration,” Geodor added, starting on the making of the soup.