Work In Progress, Rise of the Raven

A little peek at what I've been working on;
Rise of the Raven
The Tale of Athan Vercilla

I’d never met royalty before, which should come as no surprise given my station in life prior to the unfolding of the war. For all the years I’d spent on the front of it, however, not once had our king made an appearance until that day.

I was gearing up with my men to make our final charge, intent on wiping out the last group of Androni raiders. Thousands of men from both sides had lost their lives in the conflict up to that point. However, in doing so and fighting back, I’d spared other families from suffering what I had during the eradication of my village and family, and for that, I was proud.

I was told by a herald running ahead of the king’s entourage that he was on his way to be a part of what we were setting out to do.

...this, immediately, irritated me, but I held my tongue and decided to withhold judgment until I’d at least met the monarch whose flag I had been fighting under. Certainly, with his entire country sunk into famine, he’d had things to attend to aside from the fight with our eastern neighbors. Perhaps he’d heard of me and found me competent and worth leaving in charge.

I hoped, anyway.

When late morning rolled around and he appeared, my initial irritation was brushed aside in a heartbeat with absolute fury.

The king arrived in our camp, so enormously overweight I was surprised his horse had survived the ride. Worse yet, his three sons, all in a similar state of obesity, were with him. Yet, my entire army was little more than skin and bones. No, he hadn’t avoided the front because he’d been busy. He’d avoided it because he was simply too fat to be of any particular use.

Fat in a time of famine for his entire country, mind you.

I don’t need to share with you exactly how that made me feel.
He required the help of no fewer than six men to get him off of his horse, his sons doing little better.

What he had on me in girth, however, I made up for in height. I towered over him, refusing to kneel as he approached. I should have ended him at that moment and been done with it.

He waddled up to me, his expression confused. He stopped and looked me over silently for several moments. One of his guards waved to me that I should kneel, but I would not.

The king’s gaze inevitably landed on my eyes and he took a single step closer. “They say your name is Athan Debric.”

I gave a single nod, knowing I needed to continue the charade. “It is.”

“Your eyes say otherwise,” he replied, quickly snapping his fingers.

At once, two men produced a chair from the wagon accompanying the king’s entourage. They brought it over to him and he landed in it, obviously exerted from even his brief stint on his feet. Soon, three more were produced for the princes, too.

I waited for them to settle in. “I keep hearing tales about my eyes being of particular interest, but I’m afraid I don’t know what that stems from.”

He slouched down in his chair, leaning to the side as one of his attendants mopped his sweaty brow for him. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m the son of a poor farmer,” I said, my hatred for the man before me growing with each beat of my heart. “Whatever legacy these other teal-eyed devils had is apart from me.”

“Witches,” he replied, as another servant appeared to tip a chalice of wine to his lips. He took a sip before dismissing the servants nearby. “Insurrectionists. My father had some trouble with a family known as the Vercillas. One of them was a landowner from this part of the country. He sought to spark a rebellion to overthrow our nation. It was of no great matter. Easily crushed and most of them killed.”

As poor as we’d always been, we did own the farm we’d lived on. I’d always wondered how that could be for a family in poverty. My father had always said it had simply been in the family for generations and passed down to him from his uncle. Further details had been withheld from me, or perhaps my father simply hadn’t known more.

Not that it mattered. I was the only one of my family left. And, other than the first man I’d met in the village I’d arrived in after my own was destroyed ages before, no one knew I was, indeed, a Vercilla.

“Well, as I said, I’m Athan Debric,” I replied, forcing up a smile that made the acid churn in my stomach. The ache of my fangs begging to be allowed to descend burned in my upper jaw, but I had to hold them at bay. Seeing that I was a vampire certainly wouldn’t help matters.

He eyed me again, obviously thinking, but as to what, I didn’t know. “So, how close are we to defeating these Androni invaders?”

We? My friend, I cannot tell you how very, very hard it was for me to keep from simply stepping forward and ripping this fat bastard to shreds. We?

“This raid shall likely end it,” I said, my smile faltering despite my best efforts, but I still kept up a humble tone through some miracle.

“Good. I’m glad that I will crush them quickly,” he said, “and I shall have my victory.”

I couldn’t do it. I tried, I did, but that was a step too far.

“You will crush them?” I asked. “You will have your victory?”

All three of his sons, as well as the servants around us, fell silent immediately. I ignored all of them except the king.

He was dumbstruck. He didn’t know how to respond to that. I may have been the first one to ever respond to him in such a way, judging from the color of purple that immediately rose to his cheeks.

I didn’t back down. “I have been out here for years! I started this all when I was merely sixteen following the slaughter of my entire family and village! Don’t think that you’re going to ride into this now, watch me end this war, and then claim the victory for your own!”

One of the princes managed to extract himself from his seat, and he rose up. It took him no fewer than three attempts to draw his sword from his sheath. “How dare you speak to your king like that! I shall kill you for your insolence!”

I smiled at that and placed my hand against the hilt of the sword at my side. “Try it.”

The prince, likely my own age, had clearly not thought that out very well, and he didn’t make a move toward me.

The king’s guards, however, did make a move, coming to attention and drawing their own weapons with far more grace and skill than the prince.

The king gave a snort and started to laugh. “Athan Debric, you are a funny man! You’ve gotten them all worked up!”

Yes, our king was so out of touch that he thought my display of defiance was nothing more than a joke! It may have really been humorous under any other circumstances...