Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 44

My head hurt even more than the wound in my ribs. And it wasn’t just the hangover either. I was in the throne room sitting next to Seldon with Stein standing to my left looking at the crowded chamber of the dead king. Would this never end? Was I ever going to have another day for myself?

The questions roamed through my mind as I gazed over the noble men and women who heroically abandoned us in our greatest time of need. They made haste to return as soon as the portals opened, and they heard the good news wanting to make sure their treasures and estates had been defended so they could return to the usual.

“All I’m saying, Lord Voice, is that we must obey the laws of our land. Why would we have to barter with you about the lands and titles we are owed by natural law? I find this whole charade entirely insulting and I think the other high lords would agree,” Lord Cerves said, standing tall and proud.

The rest of the throne chamber didn’t like that at all. Even the other nobles who had remained in the city booed the deserter and his ilk.

“Why did I need to be here again?” I asked Stein as the tall white columns of the throne room shook with a hundred angry voices shouting at the same time. The weathered commander looked down at me and shrugged.

“Seldon said he needed you here. I don’t know why.”

“Ugh,” I muttered and leaned my chin on my knuckles. I

 told Fey and the others that if I allow them to pull me in again it’d never end and I was right. I had been drinking through the night in the club and was looking forward to a nice two days of sleep but no. The very next morning after barely a few hours of shuteye, Seldon’s assistant came knocking. Most urgent matters of the state, he said. You must attend, the little goblin bastard claimed.

“Just because the kingslayer took our beloved King’s head it doesn’t mean you get to do as you wish!” Lady Pasternak barked. Silence washed over the attendees and all eyes landed on me. They wanted a reaction but I had none.

“We don’t use that word anymore, Lady Pasternak,” Seldon said calmly. “Frank Midnight has saved this city and the kingdom. Without him, you’d all be put to the Emperor’s sword.”

“Hear, hear!” someone yelled from the back rows.

“Well, be that as it may,” she continued with a croaky voice. “I will not give up my land or my wealth. It’s the law of the land!”

“The law of the land!” Yoother of House Avarrian repeated loudly. The very man who pulled a battalion of crossbowmen away from our walls and back to his castle barked for justice. I groaned softly, shaking my head. I didn’t want to get involved, but these fuckers were pushing it hard.

“Lord Avarrian,” Seldon said with poison in his voice. “I haven’t invited you here to discuss the law. I’ve told you at the beginning of this session that you have forfeited your lands the moment you left the city—”

“Outrageous!” Lord Ceres cried. “You think you have any right to do so? I still have my men and my castle, Seldon. I will defend it with my life!” The other deserters shouted in agreement while the rest of the throne room took up to booing them again. Someone slung cabbage their way and it landed against Lord Irwood’s head. The man shot up angrily.

“How dare you! My House provided that cabbage for you!”

A potato suddenly smacked against his chest, then another and Lord Irwood sat down covering his head as a rain of vegetables followed. Curious. I thought our provisions had been drained during the siege.

“Order!” Seldon demanded several times before the ruckus died down.

“Only a king has the right to disown us, Seldon!” Lord Ceres said. “I won’t be treated like this by a bunch of lesser nobles and…peasants!” he said, earning more potatoes to his head.

“Hang them!” the throne room demanded. “Burn them alive!” the voice of Hadim Quin, the leader of the Warlock Guild echoed and many agreed. Another storm of arguments filled the great white halls as Seldon got out of his chair and walked up to me.

“Frank, can you…do your thing now?” he said in hushed tones.

“What thing?” I asked genuinely confused.

“You know…turn into a demon, make threats. Tell them you’ll destroy the rest of their armies if they don’t comply. I really don’t want to start another war. Their castles are well defended and our troops are exhausted, but if we have to—”

“Is this why you called me?”

“I’m sorry, I should have said something, but I couldn’t risk you not coming here. Besides, there’s something else I need to announce, and I fear their reaction.”

“What else?”

“What else?” Stein echoed my words.

Seldon turned towards the throne chamber where vegetables and insults flew back and forth in equal measure.

“I’ve spent some time in the Royal Archives in the past few days and…” He rubbed his chin reluctant to say what was on his mind. “I might have a successor for our late false king. A trueborn Catan.”

“What? Who?” I asked. “Don’t tell me it’s me.”

“No, of course not,” Seldon said and I breathed a sigh of relief. I already feared Seldon would put me up to be some kind of king reagent or whatever. Had he told me that I’m the true king I’d probably ask Tyfus to feed me one of his fireballs.

“It’s…just can you do your thing first?”

I looked to Stein who had an evil grin on his face, that fat bastard.

“Fine, but I won’t turn into a demon because I’ll have to kill someone to turn back.”

“Ouch, well I don’t know. Maybe we can find some of the prisoners? It really only works if you’re a demon.”

I shot Seldon the evil eye and he took a step back.

“What the hell do you people think I am? Some kind of crazed killer you can sic on anyone you wish? I’m not going to kill prisoners just so you can have it easier, you prickly son of a—ugh, just watch me.”

I shot up from my chair,

“Be silent, you filthy traitors!” I roared, surprising myself with the intensity of my voice. The whole chamber fell silent instantly. Only a single cabbage lazily rolled over the perfectly polished marble.

I (Rift Walked) into the front row, making Lord Ceres and the others slap their butt cheeks against the wooden benches, then activated (Dread Mist) shedding the brightly lit throne room in complete darkness. Gasps echoed all over as the chamber and I stood in front of the deserter high-lords.

“I will not only destroy your troops and castles, I will turn you and your families into wraiths and chain them in the darkness to suffer eternity. I will do this either way, whether you do as told or not.”

“G—Gods!” Lord Ceres stuttered.

“But perhaps,” I continued. “If you obey like the traitorous dogs you are and do everything in your power to redeem yourselves, perhaps…I might spare your families. Unless you make me come here again.”

“P--please!” Lady Pasternak cried.

I (Rift Walked) back into my seat and lifted the darkness to a silent throne chamber. The first row of traitor nobles had lost all the color in their faces. Lady Pasternak was crying, Lord Ceres just sat there like a frozen corpse. Lord Utmoor and his brother were hugging, and Lord Irwood was on the floor, curled up like a child and shaking.

I looked to Seldon expectantly.

“Good enough?” I asked.

“G—good enough,” he said and returned to his seat with a nervous step.

“May we continue,” Seldon said, clearing his throat. Since there were no objections from the first row, he did.

“Now, I do want to get to the main reason why I called this session.” He looked to the first row again expecting some kind of defiance but there was none. Seldon glanced at me with an impressed look.

“Since the Savior of Sankta Varath, Frank Midnight, killed the false king, there has been a vacancy that needs to be filled. We are a kingdom, after all, and we must be ruled by a king.”

“Frank is king!” someone yelled from the back and many cheered in agreement.

“He is the king of our hearts, indeed,” Seldon continued. “But as Lord Ceres and the others have pointed out many times, we are still ruled by law and the law dictates that a king cannot be chosen, he must have a birthright to that title.”

Seldon Wey Stoneford snapped his fingers and a courtboy ran up to him with a large leatherbound tome with the colors of Sankta Varath on its covers. The tension in the room built up instantly, nervous whispers rippling through the room.

Seldon opened the tome somewhere at the end, traced his fingers along a page, and looked up.

“Before the false king fooled us all, the last rightful king was Tabien Han Catan. He had five children with the late Lady Neveth. According to the History of the Catan Bloodline, his eldest child was Genevere who married into the Shat’ar royal line and died giving birth to her first child. His eldest son, also named Tabien died at the age of five during sword practice, Marlock, his second son died of the sniffles at the age of eleven, which leaves us with his second daughter Lamien and his youngest son Kered, both of which are said to have been lost at sea during their voyage to the Long Isles of the West.”

“That was almost thirty years ago, Seldon,” Stein said to a silent chamber. “Are you suggesting we make for the Long Isles to find them?”

“No, of course not,” Seldon said and snapped his fingers again. Another courtboy ran up to him offering the King’s Voice another tome only half as large. Seldon paged through it quickly.

“I have found out something else,” he said. “The royal ship Crown of Iron never left the docks that day. Moreover, it was sold to a trader who renamed it and reworked its royal markings.”

Gasps echoed all over. Most of which were gasps of disappointment; some of the attending nobles realizing it couldn’t have been them.

“I scoured the archives of Sankta Varath’s orphanages to see what children had been dropped off on that date.” The tension in the room was high. Some stood, grabbing onto the backrests of the benches in front of them. Others held their hands together in prayer.

I lit a cigar and leaned back into my seat. I didn’t really care which of them would climb the throne, but I was entertained, I had to give Seldon that. He truly was a showman.

“But I found no matches,” A wave of disappointed sighs washed over the crowd. “However,” Seldon said and snapped his fingers again. “I found something else.” From behind the throne, a thin, sickly-looking figure appeared leaning on a cane and walking slowly up to the King’s Voice.

“You must be shitting me,” I muttered, seeing Papa there. He bowed as much as his frail body allowed and smacked his thin lips together.

“There is still one orphanage I forgot about, the largest one in Sankta Varath, the Borough’s Kids led by a man we’re all familiar with. Papa, if you will?” Seldon said, gesturing for him to speak.

“Yes, yes,” Papa said, glancing at me then at the rest of the room. “I remember that day well, I do. I remember all my kids. You people think I just use them to make myself richer. All you haughty rich folk think I’m some kind of monster, you do. But you forget one thing, all of Papa’s kids get somewhere in life. Look at Frank here,” he said pointing his bony finger at me.

“Frank was a Borough’s kid?” someone yelled.

Elves gasped, dwarves chuckled, and Tyfus let out a loud “Ha!”

“Yes he was. And now he’s your savior. Who do you have to thank for that? Me!” he snapped, not waiting for an answer.

“Papa, would you please?” Seldon said.

“Yes, yes, of course. Do your duty, Papa. I always do. Now,” he smacked his lips again. “As I said, I remember every kid I raised and I remember the day Snowdog of the Three of Steel brought me two children dressed in dirty drags with faces covered in mud. He gave me five king’s head to take care of them and promised more in the days to come. Five gold to raise a couple of princes? Can you even imagine that? I say, the throne owes me at least a thousand. Perhaps more.” He turned to Seldon, waiting. The King’s Voice sighed and nodded and Papa smiled satisfied. I frowned, trying to do the math. The false king ruled for…What was it twenty-eight years? Twenty-nine? The princelings couldn’t have been older than five which meant that they must be around thirty-four or five years old now.

“Good, yes, very good. Where was I? Yes, the dirty children. I was suspicious of course. I doubted those human children were bastards of Snowdog. That creature was a mix of every species and race known to history, I bet his offspring would probably be a sign of the endtimes. But he was one of the Three of Steel and five gold was decent money in those days,” he trailed off and hurriedly cleared his throat. “I mean…barely enough.”

“You’ll get your money, Papa. Please get to the point.”

As Papa fell into a coughing fit, I tried to wrestle with his words. A sadness washed over me hearing of Snowdog and what he had done for Steelheart only to end up the way he did. I made a mental note of picking Castelian’s body from the armory and letting Tyfus burn it to ash so any memory of that asshole could be wiped from history.

“Yes, of course. He said the children needed to be taken care of, that mix-breed bastard and so I did. He said their names were Neimal and Derek and so it was, yes. Plain looking children, I tell you, nothing royal about them either. Both were dark of hair and eyes, pale of skin and…Right, human of course, yes.”

“Derek?” I snapped. “What Derek?

“Wait your turn, son,” Papa said waving me off. Could it be my Derek? I couldn’t remember if I knew anyone with that name during my time in the Borough’s kids. There were hundreds of us at times, most of which had nicknames like I did so it was possible. Besides, Derek must be the least remarkable man to ever walk the world. I couldn’t even envision his dumb face at that moment, that’s how forgettable he was. 

“Now poor Neimal was not used to work. It’s a rough life for my kids. Many die, the little flowers. Many yes and she did soon after she joined us. Some sickness of heart, I think. But Derek made it. He grew somewhat stronger, not as strong as Frank here, mind you. At the age of twelve, however, the boy ran off with some mercenary gang and I never saw him again. That’s the life of Papa, no thanks for all the things I give, for all my sacrifices, for all—”

“That will do, Papa,” Seldon said. “You can go.”

“Go? What about my compensation?”

“I’ll have the royal treasurer meet you outside. Please,” Seldon siad politely and Papa nodded without offering any resistance. He walked off, never sparing me another glance.

“Now then,” he continued. “I have traced the archives of different guilds and mercenary groups and found that there was only one Derek who later joined the Bounty Hunter’s Guild.” My feet suddenly felt cold. Derek was the successor to the throne? My runnerboy? The idiot I’ve been handling like a sack of potatoes all this time? I let out a loud

“Ha!” then cleared my throat as I accidentally garnered everyone’s attention.

“He named himself Derek Strongfoot at the age of twenty-one and as Commander Stein, Frank, and many of our soldiers know, is a major in our army.”

“Derek fucking Strongfoot,” I blurted out to a throne room of the man’s royal subjects.

“That would be Kered Catan, actually, Frank. And I don’t think you should address him like that anymore. Now, I urge the two of you to find King Kered and give him the news. A royal coronation is in order.”

The words breezed past me. All I could think of was all the shit I made the idiot do over the last year. Not that I had any regrets, or…maybe a few. I could have gone easier on him, but he was such a prime example of stupid, it was hard to not make fun of him. Eh, he wouldn’t be the first king I pissed off.

“Well, fuck.” I muttered.

“He’s a good lad,” Stein said calmly. “He’ll make a good king.”

“Derek?” I snapped. “You’ll crawl up any asshole, won’t you, Stein?”

The commander shrugged dispassionately as a cacophony of voices filled the throne room again so I got up and made my way out the door.

“Frank?” Seldon yelled after me.

“I’m going to find him!” I yelled back with a permanent smile on my face, then (Rift Walked) my way through the door and onto Wolf’s back. 

“Go boy, go to the Wailing Sisters.”

“Fast?”

“Fast, boy.”

We rode south over the bridge and towards Dryad’s Square. There was no doubt in my mind that Derek was pestering Pearl in the Wailing Sisters again. It was his main past time whenever he was off duty and considering he earned the rank of major, I was certain he gained enough confidence to pester even harder. All I wanted was to see the expression on his face when I told him the news. I felt that as head of our house and family it was my duty to tell him. Well, that and I also hoped I’d get him to shit his pants or black out. Either would bring me great joy.

Demons still roamed the destroyed streets on every other corner. A good portion had left the city, but many still remained including Arstemion who got a taste for moonshine and orc company. It was a matter for a later time, though.

I reined Wolf in as we reached the Wailing Sisters. The club was untouched, and matter of fact, the whole of Dryad’s Square looked like it had never seen war. Except for the hundreds of homeless refugees from other parts of the city and the random demon dogs fighting with our own…well, regular dogs.

Just as I jumped off my deviltail, the doors of the club swung open and Derek came running out with a wide grin on his face. Fuck, I thought. Who the hell could have been faster than I was? Pearl walked out after him, leaning on the doorframe with a tired look.

“Did you hear?” Derek said. “Did you hear the good news?”

“Eh, shit. You know already, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Well, congratulations, I guess.”

“Thank you, Frank! Man, this is the best day of my life! The best day! And you know what else? You know who I want to be my best man?”

“Your best man?”

“Yeah! You, you fucking ass! I want you, Frank Midnight, to be my best man at the wedding. What do you say?”

“Wedding?”

I looked up at Pearl who shrugged.

“So…your news is—Wait. Pearl? You’ll marry Derek?”

“I guess so,” she said flatly.

“What? How? Why?”

“He wore me down, Frank.”

“She loves me, Frank! She loves me! Me! Derek!” I looked from Derek’s grin to Pearl’s more than indifferent, but definitely exhausted face and fell into a fit of laughter that made my ribs shake and ache.

“What?” Derek said angrily.

I tried to steady myself for a moment, looked up at his dumb face, then laughed even harder until I coughed out a wad of blood the size of a fist.

“Is that what you think of me?” Derek barked. “After all this time, you’ll laugh at the one moment in my life that I—”

“Derek, Derek, hold on. Hold on, man. I’m not laughing about your wedding,” I said wiping tears from my eyes. “I’m not, I swear.” I said.

“Then what is this?”

“Pearl,” I said, looking over at her standing on the porch of her club. “Do you remember Derek during your days with Papa? He was there.”

“He was? You were?” Derek seemed confused looking from her to me.

“I—Yeah, I was a Borough’s kid for a bit. But I left early. I don’t even remember most of it. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, my good man, or should I say, Your Grace. Uhm, turns out you’re the last of the Catan bloodline. And Pearl,” I said, barely able to hold it in. “You’ll—You’ll be queen.” I grabbed onto my ribs as another fit of laughter came over me. The two just stood there, unmoving.

“No, I’m not,” Derek muttered. “Why are you saying that.”

“Frank, that’s a stupid joke,” Pearl said angrily.

“No, seriously. Seldon just announced it before the whole throne room. Derek, your real name is Kered Catan, youngest son of Tabien Han Catan. And you’re the rightful king.”

As I said those words, I didn’t feel like laughing anymore. I actually felt a bit sick. Derek smiled and looked up to Pearl.

“Is he…is he still joking?”

“I don’t think so,” Pearl said, her eyes growing like plates.

“Anyway, you should go visit the palace. Your coronation will be soon enough, Your Grace. And Queen Pearl, well, congratulations to you, too.”

I jumped on Wolf again, my good mood returning as I watched their faces cramp up in horror.

“And yes, I’ll be your best man, my King,” I said and spurred Wolf on, looking over my shoulder at the two who just stood there like statues.

I guessed they would still stand there for a while before my words fully sank in. A king and a queen from the Boroughs, how fitting, I thought. Things truly could take a turn for the better, or the funnier at least.