Kings Of The Future Rewrite (Part 1)
(from here)
Erich watched his master’s chest bob up and down as he slept, each breath accompanied by a reverberating snore that shook the tent walls. Erich lay opposite, his head too near the man’s foul toes for comfort. Not that he would have been sleeping anyway - the boy wasn’t one for the wasteful rest his master enjoyed so often. He usually passed the time in his head, imagining different beginnings for himself. Different futures.
He guessed he was nine seasons old, but that was only based on what he’d seen of other boys in various marketplaces around Meil. Krutt, the master, got mean with his hands the when the boy got curious about himself, and so Erich had learned to keep his mouth shut. But, from what he’d been able to glean, Krutt had stolen him from a young girl. Or traded him, but most likely for one of the cheaper items he peddled. He had no last name, and his first name was probably not actually Erich. The master had a wolf-pup named Erich long before the boy had come about, an affectionate little thing that had gone feral and tried to rip open the magician’s throat one night. His master had returned the favor in kind, and that had been the end of the first Erich. The boy thought his name was a reminder that even those treated well will revolt. And so Erich had not been treated well.
Mostly, the master liked that Erich never slept; he praised the boy every time he warned off a night-bandit. But there were other times, paranoid times. Such as recently, where he’d become convinced the boy stayed awake to plot his death and subsequent escape.
“Never try it,” he’d said many times. “I sleep in the world. I can feel your heartbeat quicken even in my deepest slumber, and I’d sooner snap your spine than have you even think of running. Your soul is only a bean to me, but it is my bean, and I paid for it.”
There was a knife in the man’s voice, and Erich feared him. But still he dreamed of being free from the endless fervor of markets. See the whole of Meil without chains. Perhaps find his mother along the way. Of course, the master had good reason to worry. Erich believed the magician when he said he slept in the world, believed it because the man had done all sorts of magic in front of him, impossible things, with crowds of people watching and trying to figure his trick. So Erich spent his nights not thinking of escape, but learning to control his heartbeat. Mastering the dark so that every movement he made was pure silence, and left nothing out of place. He was proud of his progress, and several weeks ago he’d decided that he would try to leave during the Hathan Market Fair, the largest festivity in the largest and most kingly city in Meil. Krutt was eager for it, and spent less time worrying over the boy.
The weeks of preparation brought them here, on a trek over hilly plains to a camp just outside Hatha, where all the other vendors and performers had gathered. Erich got up to make the dirty water, stepping over the the master and out the flap without even disturbing the air. He took several deep breaths and stood erect in the night, looking over the sea of tents. The hills were subtle and rolling, and the wind whistled along the taller grasses making them jump and dance and flow in waves. Erich had never seen the Western Ocean of myth, though he thought that maybe when the clouds rolled over and the storms came it would look something like this. It was beautiful, even in its stillness.
He peed, moved to the other side of the tent and sat down, crossing his legs in front of him. The city was a grand spectacle even in darkness, a rising tower of wrought stone marking its center. Erich imagined the King sat atop the tower, on a throne made of star-matter. Perhaps even looking out at me.
The thought filled him with strength. Why even wait until the Market Fair? He could begin his journey now, walk for hours before the old man even woke. He would choose a random direction and begin to run, and then how would his master find him?
“Boy.”
Erich twitched. It was the gruff voice he’d learned to hate. Krutt.
“Yes, Master.”
“Are you ready for the day?”
“Yes, Master.”
“I can feel you scheming. What are you thinking about so early, in the shadow of the Great King’s tower?”
“The Market-Fair, Master.” His voice cracked.
“If it weren’t for the fear in your voice I might believe you. Let me tell you again, boy. You leave, I hunt you down. I find you, you’re gone. You’re dead. And make no mistake, I will find you. You try to blend in, someone spots the brand on your cheek. They recognize it and send word, I come to get you. You’re dead. There’s no place a magician’s boy can hide from me, I got magic on my side. I find out you still planning your run, I cut your legs off. Then let’s see you try it.”
Even in the black Erich could see the way his master’s face molded into a mask of twisted happiness. Glee, almost. There was no doubt the man was serious, and for as long as they’d been together Erich knew Krutt was a man who prided himself on his word, and his keeping it.
“No master, I won’t run. I’m yours, I know it. I’ve seen the brand on my face. I was just sitting out here watching the wind go over the grass, and thinking about tomorrow. Master.”
Krutt’s face changed again, this time into something resembling thoughtfulness.
“Aye, boy. Tomorrow’s a gret big day. Lots of money to be found, more of it to be taken. Market Fair’s always good for that. You’ll earn some, providing you work for it. And you working for me means you’d better.”
“I will, master. No mistake, that.” He was glad to have the conversation come to a close. Rarely could he appease Krutt this quickly, the man was a taskmaster if the boy was his horse. Most likely Erich would earn two or three silvers, enough to buy himself some new clothes or a loaf of finer bread. Krutt always let him keep what he bought, it was one of the few things about the man the boy respected.
“Good. Now get in here and get to sleep. Work’s going to be breaking your back in the morning.”
Though he knew sleep wasn’t going to come, had never come, not for him, Erich followed his master’s head back into the tent and lay down, closing his eyes. After a while he began counting the spaces between his master’s snores again, and had reached two thousand before the sun’s glow told him to rise.
***
The Market Fair was the most important event in Hatha every year, and it lasted a week. Travelers and merchants from every kingdom came with their skills, services, and goods to camp outside the Hathan gates before being let in, in a great parade of colors, smells, and shouts. Peasantry and royalty alike stood on the sides of the Road, the widest and longest of any in the Kingdom, and watched as the strange people carting their strange capital went by. Those at the front of the parade marched right up to the castle gates and set up their booths right there, while those behind them set up their booths all down the length of the Road.
