The Kingmaker Contest

  The Kingmaker Contest

  Troy Clem

  Edited by: Mandie Russell

  Without my wife, nothing would be possible.

  This is all for her.

  Copyright © 2019 by Troy H. Clem IV

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Sudden Departure

  The frigid mountain air made Theo regret his decision to force open the lid of the trunk that he had stowed away in a few hours ago, but he couldn’t resist. In his twelve years of life he’d never seen the palace from outside the walls. With its tall pointed towers and splendid garden, it looked like a crown set atop the head of a great king forever surveying his lands. There was no denying the palace was beautiful—still, he hoped to never see it again.

  The early morning sun rose over the western mountains: nature-made barriers which for centuries stood guard along with the fortified walls to protect the palace’s pristine white stone—and those lucky enough to be inside—from potential invaders. In the far distance, Theo could still see the calm teal ocean, and pictured the fisherman loading their boats for a day of hard labor—but the bustling harbor was just out of view behind grassy fertile slopes. He stood up, the trunk rocking back and forth on the top of the carriage; he still couldn’t see any of the activities at the waterfront.

  Theo bundled up in the contents of the trunk and watched everything he knew fade away. Rigol’s distinct smell—the sea mixing with pungent farmland—hung in the air long after the palace and water were out of view. The scent reminded Theo of staring out his chamber window at the harbor, the gateway to freedom that was so close but forever out of reach. In the countless times Theo had pictured leaving the palace, he’d always imagined he’d go by boat—but as he grew more impatient with his sequestered life, he became desperate enough to take the opportunities put in front of him.

  Theo began to wonder if he’d taken advantage of this current opportunity too hastily. In a simple off-white linen button-up shirt and brown pants, he was not dressed for the high mountain pass the carriage had taken out of Rigol. He must have inadvertently removed all the warmest clothes from the trunk to make room for himself, because all that remained were trousers. He wrapped his lean frame in a dozen layers of pants, but still shivered. He pulled the lid of the trunk closed, but he hadn’t been the one to latch it originally, and only now realized how impossible it would be to latch from the inside. He’d wanted to watch the palace disappear, but it wouldn’t be worth it if he froze to death.

  As the moving carriage wound up the tiny mountain passage, the trunk lid bounced up and down. Theo tried to hold it shut from the inside, but the lining was smooth. Theo sunk down to avoid being struck by the flapping lid, and covered himself as completely as possible in the thin trousers—but every time the lid opened, even just a crack, cold air blasted in and leeched him of any warmth. Theo’s hands and feet were tingling and becoming numb. To deceive himself, he tried to imagine the warm glow of the sun—and for a few moments it seemed to almost work.

  The carriage bounced hard. The lid of the trunk flew open, ripped from its hinges, and tumbled down the mountain side. Wind blew directly into the open trunk, funneling cold air into every tiny opening in Theo’s pants-blanket. Worried he’d be exposed by the noise of the falling trunk lid, Theo’s eyes snapped to the front of the one-horse carriage. He couldn’t see Losik’s personal driver through the barrier of the covered compartment. The driver must have been too focused on maneuvering the horse along the narrow, cliff-lined road to notice. Theo peered over the side in time to see the trunk lid bounce off the mountain and disappear into the fog below.

  Through a small, nearly-fogged-up window in the door, Theo caught a glimpse inside the carriage. Losik, an enormously fat man who took up nearly the entirety of a carriage built for four, was reading correspondences. Theo wished he’d seen Losik squeezing his excessive girth through the tiny carriage door. It seemed an impossible feat but there he was, spread out inside. Maybe they had to take the door off? Just the thought made Theo giggle, but giggling was hard while shivering. He couldn’t help but think of how warm it would be inside the carriage with Losik’s large body producing as much heat as a coal furnace. Theo stuffed himself back down and hunkered into the layers of trousers, trying to think warm thoughts.

  As the carriage snaked higher into the mountains, the wind got colder and kept finding a way into Theo's makeshift blanket. He tried to remember the last book he’d read, but his thoughts kept returning to the carriage. He couldn’t go inside: if he did, it would most certainly be the end of his journey. Autumn leaves were tumbling from the trees, and the snow had yet to fall. It could be much colder, Theo convinced himself. He was determined to make it to Ironhead and get out from under Losik’s thumb.

  All the rock faces and trees blurred together. How long had he been fighting and failing to keep the wind out of his pants-blanket? Theo kept expecting the sun’s warmth to grow and bring the relief he so desperately needed, but the wind kept the air cold, and the sun gave little more than light.

  Theo couldn’t take it much longer. His teeth were chattering so hard, he was certain they would break. His feet were completely numb, and when he tried to wiggle his toes, he couldn’t feel for certain if they were moving at all. His hands started losing sensation at the fingertips. He’d been naïve to think his journey to freedom would be anything but treacherous. He shed the layers of trousers, finding quickly that they’d been doing more work than he thought. He flew in a flash from inside the trunk to the top of the carriage, then leaned over the edge and rapidly knocked on the foggy glass window.

  Losik had always been exceptionally reserved around Theo; it may not have looked it to anyone else, but Theo could tell from the slight raise of his eyebrows: he was stunned. “Boy,” he sighed, unlatching the door of the moving carriage. The door swung open quickly and some of Losik’s fat belly sagged out of the doorway.

  The carriage wasn’t moving fast, but it was on the edge of a steep drop. Theo wasn’t afraid of heights; he loved climbing the walls outside the palace. He always took his time to carefully find the right places to grab, but it’s funny how brave the cold can make a person. He swung himself off the top of the carriage and into the doorway without hesitation—he had never before been so brazen. He was taller and more athletic than average for his age. Yet, as he swiftly crawled over Losik’s warm belly, searching for space to squeeze in, he looked tiny compared to the robust man. He managed to fit his slim hips into a tiny sliver across from Losik. Almost immediately, feeling began returning to his feet. It reminded him of waking up on a cold winter morning, and Losik was the raging fire in the hearth.

  Losik pulled his belly inside and closed the carriage door. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “I’m just employing the exceptional education that you’ve given me,” Theo replied.

  “No one taught you to stow away in a trunk,” Losik replied.

  “You had me consume enough history and literature that the inspiration came to me instinctively. Have you read all the versions of Legends of Drasque?” Theo asked. “In one of the ancient translations, Drasque uses this exact technique to get the upper hand on the Troll King.”

  “Enough, boy,” Losik barked.

  “Having now squeezed into a trunk myself, I question if there would have been one large enough for a grown man. I’d say the author took artistic license for that release.”

  “I said enough!” Losik paused for a moment, closed his eyes, and took a calming and collecting breath. “You have disobe
yed me for the last time.”

  “Come on, Lo-lo,” Theo replied. “Is it not expected that I disobey you? That should be a given. And your instructions never explicitly forbade me from stowing away on your trip to Ironhead. So, technically, I didn’t disobey you.”

  “When you return to the palace, you will be chained to your walls,” Losik announced as if it were a Royal decree he was reading from one of the many papers on his belly.

  Theo laughed. “I’d welcome the break from your relentless combat training schedule.”

  “You’ll just become the best at fighting while chained to a wall,” Losik corrected.

  “I’ll bring up these threats when I air my grievances to King Rev,” said Theo. “I’m sure the King is eager to hear how his ward is treated.”

  “The King doesn’t care,” Losik replied.

  “Since I’m the king’s ward, as you have had no problem constantly reminding me,” Theo said, “I would think he’d be partially invested in my future.”

  “The last king had a soft spot for your mother,” Losik said. “This king has no idea you exist.”

  “Then our conversation will have to be that much more detailed.”

  “That was your plan, boy?” Losik scoffed. “You were just going to barge into the king’s chambers and have a conversation? How was that going to end?”

  “I’ll request a royal entry into the academy,” Theo said.

  “That’s not how it works,” Losik replied.

  “The king has the ultimate authority.”

  “You never think anything through, Theo,” Losik said, rubbing the corner of his eye with the tip of his finger. “It’s the same in your combat training and your studies. You charge in blindly, assuming everything will work out; but anything worth doing requires proper preparation. The king can’t just do whatever he wants. He can only do one thing: what is best for the Empire. He wouldn’t push his authority for you.”

  “I’m prepared to enlist in the Royal Guard,” Theo said. “My intelligence and my combat ability will prove my worth. I’ll challenge anyone in a battle of wits or blades. King Rev will see that I must be granted royal entry.”

  “I’m sure you would excel in the Guard,” Losik replied. “You have more years of training and education than most of the cadets—but you are missing the most important part to make your plan succeed: royal birth.”

  “I am ward of the king. I may not be of royal blood but I’m—”

  “You’re an orphan,” Losik interrupted, adjusting in his seat—a few papers sliding off his belly in the process. “Taken in by the Empire. That doesn’t give you any special rights, it just keeps you out of the gutters.”

  “I will be the exception,” Theo said. “That’s what it means to be exceptional.”

  “Being exceptional means nothing,” Losik replied. “Many exceptional commoners have not been granted entry because they simply didn’t have the gold, grain, or goods needed to buy their way in. Have you miraculously gained access to such wealth? Because blood or money are your only ways to enlist.”

  Theo turned his attention to the window and the mountainous forests that separated Rigol from the Empire’s capital: Ironhead. The sun was giving light to dozens of mountain peaks in the distance and below the narrow road which they traveled. It was a splendor of autumn colors—pockets of red and orange trees standing out against the grey and white stone mountains. Their carriage hugged the mountain wall as it cast its massive shadow over them and some of the forest below. Hardy yellow flowers were blossoming at the edge of the road and down the steep slopes—thriving in the cold rocky soil, creeping out of cracks, finding enough light and nourishment to prosper. Goats traversed the impossible rock faces and put themselves into the most dangerous of positions, all for a few nibbles of those blossoming beauties. Theo longed to be one of those goats; at least they were free. “You can’t lock me away from the world forever, Lo-lo.”

  Losik had returned to his reading. “I can,” he said without looking up. “And I will.”

  “Why?” Theo begged. “Why do you want to imprison me?”

  Losik looked up at Theo. “I made a promise to keep you safe.”

  “You’ve kept me safe long enough. Now it’s time to release me. I’ve reached enlistment age.”

  “Only royals with no other prospects enlist.”

  “What prospects do I have?” asked Theo. “As long as you have control, I have none. I want to see the world. I want to know more than what was written and experienced by someone else.”

  “And you think the Guard will give you that?”

  “The Royal Guard are sent all over the world—”

  “To fight wars,” Losik interrupted. “They fight for those whose cause can’t raise its own army. The Guard die far from their homes, where no one gives their death more than a second thought.”

  “Where is my home? Who will give my death more than a second thought?”

  “I care for you,” Losik said. “Your home is in Rigol, at the palace, where you can be safe.”

  “I’ve only seen Rigol through my window or from the top of the wall. I’ve never been to the market or the harbor or the farmland. I’d hardly call Rigol my home.”

  “There are a lot of dangers in the world,” Losik replied. “But perhaps I’ve been harsh. I won’t chain you up and... I’ll open the South Gate.”

  Theo was in disbelief. “Free access to the harbor?”

  “You can even take a day trip to Seal Island,” Losik said. “On a clear day, with calm seas,” he clarified.

  Theo had wished for the South Gate to be opened a thousand times, and had dreamed of seeing a seal instead of just a drawing of one, but his dreams had gotten much bigger in the recent months. “Last year those things would have satisfied me, but now I need more fulfillment. I need to join the Royal Guard.”

  “You’re kidding yourself, boy.”

  “Either give me permission to join or—”

  “Are you going to threaten me?”

  “Since I belong to the Empire, King Rev should be the one who denies me my rights,” asserted Theo. “Not you.”

  “You don’t get to make demands,” responded Losik. “You don’t have anything with which to bargain.”

  “I can bargain my cooperation,” Theo countered. “Let me plead my case to King Rev and I will do as the King instructs. If he denies me entry, I will be the perfect, obedient ward you’ve always wanted.”

  “Before you run off to the King, perhaps you would listen to a different path for your future.”

  “What different path?”

  “I had always hoped you’d follow in my footsteps and take the governorship, if the king were to offer it to you,” replied Losik.

  “Why would he offer it to me?”

  “You’re a smart boy, sometimes,” Losik said. “Why do you think I’ve had you train your mind and body? You will be educated and strong—the makings of the ideal leader to be entrusted with Rigol. In a few years, you’d be able to sit on my Council, learn how the Empire really works, and make a name for yourself. You may be old enough for the Guard, but you still need more education before you are ready for a real position of power.”

  “I want to escape from the palace, not chain myself to a desk inside it,” Theo maintained, ignoring Losik’s olive branch.

  “In time you’d be able to travel to Ironhead with some frequency,” Losik continued. “Perhaps Sturn and Dommgaard as well when the train lines are finished.”

  “I want to see more than just the Empire.”

  The carriage stopped suddenly and their horse let out a loud whinny. Theo bounced back and forth, while Losik’s girth kept him mostly in place. “Logo!” Losik shouted to the driver. No answer. “Logo!” he shouted again, rapping his knuckles near the front of the carriage in frustration. No answer. They heard wood crack and snap, and Theo looked out the window to glimpse the horse galloping away with a piece of the carriage still attached to its harness, banging against th
e mountainside.

  The carriage shook, dropped an inch or two, and listed toward the edge of the road, the wheels furthest from the edge lifting off the ground. Theo was pressed against the window and saw the seemingly endless fall just inches away. Far below lay a thick blanket of fog, making the jagged rocks look like distant mountain peaks piercing through clouds. The carriage shook and slid closer to the edge. Losik pulled Theo from the window, squeezing Theo into his enormous girth. “Lean away from the edge!” Losik shouted. The ground was crumbling away beneath the carriage, causing it to creep even closer to doom. “You need to get out of here, boy.”

  Theo looked around, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide.

  “You’ll have to open the door and climb out.” Losik pointed to the door that had once been hugging the mountainside and was now creeping steadily above their heads as the carriage tilted toward the drop.

  Theo looked to his guardian and back at the door.

  “You’ve been found climbing the North Wall countless times,” Losik said in response to Theo’s hesitation. “That’s a much tougher climb than this. Just move quickly.” The carriage inched closer to its demise, slowly rotating as it shifted. “You have to go!” he commanded grimly.

  Theo reached up, but the carriage angled closer to the edge and he pulled his hand back. “The walls don’t shake while I climb them.”

  “Go!”

  Theo climbed over Losik and pulled himself up. He unlatched and opened the carriage door. The wind caught the door and flung it hard against the side of the carriage. They shifted on the loose dirt and tilted closer to the perilous drop. Theo looked down as he managed to grab the door jamb with one hand, and saw a chasm through the window of the opposite door just below his dangling feet.

  Losik tried to push himself toward a corner of the carriage, leaning as hard as he could in a feeble attempt to keep his weight to one side, but he was wedged tight. No matter his effort there was no physical difference in the space he filled. “Can you get a better hold?” he yelled.