Akkeron's Ambition

Ambition

Written By: Abdel-Hamid Musleh

Revik awoke with sweat on his forehead, his palms were moist and his chest soaked. A remnant of his nightmare still lingered on his consciousness; he looked to his window to see the twilight of dawn become orange as the sun crested the ocean to announce a new day. He heard the scuttling of his servants outside his bedroom chamber, preparing his bath most likely. He threw aside his blankets and moved to his shutters, opening them to allow the ocean breeze intoxicate his senses so that he might glimpse back into his nightmare. As he inhaled the ocean air he began to recall the fleeting images that lingered. Vivid images of a great battle lay in front of him, the bodies of warriors were strewn on the ground around him, he couldn’t discern whether they were allies or enemies, everything appeared blurred to him. He looked around at the countryside as he recognized the surrounding mountains of Achgar, he was near the great fortress separating his kingdom and the Solrayne Kingdom. How these warriors died escaped him, the power radiating from his sword overwhelmed his reasoning as a feeling of dread filled his soul. As the blurry shades of blue and gold armor in front of him began to spread apart a slender figure began to emerge, as soon as she was almost in focus a loud bang awoke him from his vision.

He quickly spun around from his window to see what had happened, only to be welcomed by the ashen face of one of the serving boys standing in the doorway to his bedroom. As his eyes searched for a reason why the servant looked so frightened the boy passed out, as he began to make his way towards the unconscious body he noticed he had his massive broadsword in his hands. As he looked down at his hands, his knuckles where white, and his muscles bunched up. He was ready to strike at something when the boy first walked in but what that was escaped his thoughts as the other servants in the bedroom rushed in to see what had happened. As they took in the sight of the half naked prince with his broadsword in hand and the unconscious serving boy, they all took a cautious step backwards. One of the braver servants, a man in his mid-fourties with salt and pepper hair asked

“Is there anything wrong your highness?”

“No. I was meditating when he interrupted me, he was startled is all Master Dagon” He hoped they would accept the story, otherwise the rumors would stalk him for months.

“Ah, well, highness, we’ve readied your bath and clothes for your ceremony today and your father has summoned you, so best we get on with the day my Prince.” With a visible sigh of relief he placed his sword back into its sheath. He made his way to the tub and allowed himself to be scrubbed clean and scented by the bath oils. His day had begun sour and the turmoil of the royal court attending his engagement made the days outlook dismal. As he turned to his faithful friend and tutor, Master Dagon, whom attended him and taught him the intricacies of the court since he was a boy of twelve, he spoke his mind.

“Damnit, why the hell do I have to dress up like this, I feel like a damned fool.”

As Dagon appraised his longtime charge, he teased him a little.
“Because you have to look better than all the other damned fools, you’re a Prince, Remember? You must look like it.” As he said this he was adjusting the ruffled collar on the Princes’ dark red velvet outfit. He stopped the Prince as he began to get carried away, adjusting his obsidian cuffs and straightening out the jackets silver vine pattern that ran down the middle. As a final precaution he ran his hands along the shoulder patting off anything and straightening everything once over again.

“Are you quite finished?” Revik asked with a frown and creased brow that oozed his displeasure at being treated as nothing more than a mannequin.

“Yes, now stop pouting”

“Dagon, I’m a battle tested General of the Armies. I’ll be damned if I’m seen like this. She’s a warrior just as I am, we should just wear our traditional uniforms and be done with it.” As he said this he gruffly tugged the color of his shirt so the top button popped open, he gave a defying grin to his old master as he heard the ageless ‘tut-tut’.

“OH yees, that’ll go over well in the court. With what they already say! You with your broadsword, her with her scimitars, it’ll be love at first blood. First one out of the circle gets to die in the others arms and the kingdoms go to war for another hundred years.” He roared with laughter at his masters joke and thought it would be a more interesting reception than the nobility he was about to endure. But his masters mood changed to a more somber tone.

“If you want to prove to them that you’re not a Barbarian, that the blood is thinner in you then you have to dress like this.”

As he and his friend made their way towards the council chamber he felt like tearing off the elaborate costume his master picked out for him and going on a rampage. Barbarian A stain on his bloodline that can never be erased, his barbarian blood ran through his family strong and true, it’s the only reason they were able to conquer this land a century ago when it contained nothing more than farmers, fisherman and petty lords. It took an ‘uncivilized’ barbarian, his great-great grandfather, to civilize the region and create a formal government yet these noblemen still look down on his family as berserkers, uncontrolled beasts. As he approached his father’s council chamber he snapped out of his melancholy and began thinking tactics. No jesters, no minstrels.

As the Queen approached her closet, she wished she was able to clean her battle regalia. She was advised by her councilors not to bring it, but she felt naked without it nearby. As she made her way to her chest, she flung all the dresses and pretty things out of it onto the bed until she got to the hardened armor and scimitars she was so used to. Her fingers itched to cleanse the armor with the oil and hone the blades until they could cut a man’s torso effortlessly but time constraints and the suspicious nature of this kingdom prevented her.

“Damn him…” Queen Anessa of the Solrayne was a Queen in her own right, but only part of a ruling faction. There were three sovereigns in the mountainous domain of the Solrayne, The butcher-king Rhelon that ruled over the throne of misfortune to the west of the Stonespire pass, the Queen Anessa of the Valkyries that ruled over the eastern mountain domain of Valan and the Emerald king of Solrayne which ruled the only arable land in the domain near the glaciers of Elyse. The Solrayne was a small Kingdom but filled to capacity, the Emerald King supplied wheat, bread and barley to the kingdom while the butcher-king supplied meat from the vicious beasts that roamed his land. Each of them started out as their own kingdom until the threat of harsh winters and invasion from other lands forced them to form a new allied kingdom. The only self-sufficient kingdom was hers. Anessa only agreed to join forces with them as long as she and her people kept control over the armies.

“Who is he to tell me not to bring my armor, a puppet that believes he can go against the puppeteers wishes?” As she slammed down her chest she spread open a map of her kingdom on the table in her room and snaps a dagger into her hand that she took from a hidden fold by her waist and slams it into the glyph that represented the Emerald King. The ruling faction in the Solrayne was the Emerald Kings, his access to the Elyse glacier, also gave him access to the Elyse river that flowed through Akkeron, opening up a trade route to the lucrative river towns that bought the Rhelons furs and the Valkyries gems.

“When I’m done here, I swear to the gods I’ll kill him.” As she pries the dagger from the wood and the map she deftly hides it back into the folds of her garment.

“Fuck the Barbarian, Have his child, make sure he dies.” She growls the mantra out as she starts picking out the clothes and gems she brought for the ceremony.

As the Princes head began sag near the end of his engagement ceremony he looked to his right at his beautiful wife-to-be. Her sapphire necklace glistened against her pale white skin, her blond hair fastened in a net of diamonds that seemed to shine and illuminate her beauty. He had hoped she liked the diamonds, even though they were procured from her kingdom, they were shaped and crafted in his. The entire night he had tried to impress her and move her with gifts, stories of prowess in battle, but she seemed more interested in the abhorrent nobility around him which drove him to begin drinking. Heavily. He much rather be in a drunken stupor than hear those pigs droll on about how respected they think of her when he knows what they say behind her back. And his. As his mood darkened and he began draining wine cups by the minute, his wife-to-be feigned sleepiness and departed, signaling an official end to the ceremony. As Revik stood on slightly wobbled legs he enacted a bow that would put most jesters to shame as he executed it perfectly regardless of his extremely inebriated state. As the nobility was forced to bow lower than him he grinned as some of the larger of bellied ones had to take a knee.

“And with that my noblemen, I bid you all goodnight.” None suspected he was completely senseless except perhaps his newly appointed fiancé whom saw the copious amounts of wine he had just imbibed. As he made an artful exit through the main doors to the hall he looked around him to make sure no one was in sight and wretched into a nearby alcove. As he made his way to the garden he began scooping mouthfuls of water from the fountain to washout the taste of bile. As he tried to right himself, he felt a small hand on his elbow, helping him up.

“If I was one of these thoughtless girls that your noblemen call wives, I wouldn’t have thought twice about your behavior. You were merely entertaining your new wife and your guests as best as a Prince could. But by the way you ignored those noblemen and made them kneel at the end I can suspect you don’t very much like those people.” As Queen Anessa helped her inebriated husband-to-be stand straight, a small smile escaped her lips before she stifled it.

“Ah, my brides to be, yes, I don’t like them.” As Revik took in the scenery around him, the garden, fountain, the moonlight shining in bathing her in it, he immediately began having improper thoughts about the Queen.

“I noticed by the way you kept drinking, most men would be flat on their face, but you’re not like most men are you.” As she lightly touched his chest with her hand she saw his face go flush and his eyes light up. Barbarians so easy She checked to make sure she wasn’t followed after she left and made her way to a nook a few alcoves down from where he wretched, she also made sure that when she stepped into the garden that the moonlight hit her just right that the shadows made her breasts seem larger and pronounced.

“I..well yes I’m much better at holding drink, bigger than most men..” As he fumbled for words he recalled what he just said and tried to correct himself.

“What I mean is it takes more to get me drunk, I’m not really drunk…” and before he could finish his words she kissed him. That was enough to suppress whatever intellect he had left and send his blood over the edge. As they consummated the marriage they had yet to have, in the garden, she had a smile on her face and a laugh that was related to elation more sinister than should have been allowed at that moment. The potion she drank guaranteed a child, and the potion he drank, guaranteed a slow crippling illness, slow enough to allow the child to be born and recognized. As his blood pumped the poison through his body his movements constricted, giving her the child that she wanted and ending the life he thought he would have.