Chapter 1
The Noose is Thrown

“So they’ve left the country?”
“Yes, sir,” the captain said, bowing. “My men tracked them as far as Lamberton. We think they hired a boat and are heading north.”
Arawn processed the information. It didn’t surprise him. And yet, the situation posed its share of challenges. He couldn’t send his men into the northern kingdom, no, King Berwyn would not appreciate that. He couldn’t declare the three fugitives as outlaws without a seal from his king. And if they weren’t declared international outlaws, they’d be completely safe in the northern kingdom. Who knew what trouble they would cause there. But if he, Arawn, was king . . .
“Captain, you are dismissed,” Arawn said.
The captain bowed and vanished.
Once a course of action was decided, Arawn lost no time carrying it out. He called in his apothecary, a Shadow from across the sea, and told him of his decision. The apothecary listened with a blank face. He’d known this would happen sooner or later and he was ready.
“When will it be done?” Arawn asked.
“Tonight, my lord,” the little man replied, rubbing his hands. “With his Majesties evening medicine. I administer that myself.”
“Excellent.” Arawn didn’t smile, only pictured the challenges and opportunities which would come to him as King. “Tomorrow the king will be dead, and I will step into the vacuum. None have the power to resist me, and none want to. Only Niger the Black, and tomorrow, every kingdom and realm will be after his blood.”
The apothecary left.

That night the deed was done. The king died, silently and swiftly. The people were shocked. He was never a powerful, or popular king, but he was just. As predicted, no one protested when Arawn stepped in and offered to rule. To the people, he had been a decent sort of lord. Surely he’d be a better king.
Carbo knew better, though, and his heart went cold with fear. On his way home from the forum, he had already been passed by a courier riding north. No doubt with a warrant for Niger, Forten and Armica’s arrest.
“What can I do?” he asked his wife. “There’s nothing! With Arawn our king, there’s no telling what he’ll do! I need to send word to Niger, but I don’t know where he is and I can’t leave. He’d know.”
“Calm down, Carbo,” his wife replied, placing an arm around his shoulders. “I know Niger, the chap scares me. That’s because he’s so dangerous. He can look after himself, Fort, too. There’s nothing you can do for them. You’ll have your hands full protecting your family.”
Carbo sighed, a weight still lying on his heart. “I know you’re right. I . . . I just promised him, is all. But my first responsibility is you and the kids.” His head came up in his resolve. “I won’t let whatever Arawn does harm you.”
“I know,” his wife said. “You’re a great man, Carbo, but you can’t do everything.”
A child’s voice cried and his wife left. Carbo sat a few moments longer, then rose and seized his walking staff. Arawn’s rule meant trouble, and he was ready to meet it.

👍 O_O this sounds positively intriguing.

Interesting.................
Great start!

This is quite good, at least, from the perspective of someone who probably doesn't know what he's talking about...

...haven't I said pretty much the same thing to you before 😂? Anyways, I like where this is going.

Shoot... Looks like I'm last to comment out of us three >_<

😏 oh goody this'll start up again

The competition continues......

...as it always should.

Thank you gents!
😂 This again . . . 😂

no going back huh ?
welp guess im stuck here, got any snacks ?

@BricksAndBones I have a Jelly Roll if you want one... or, at least what's left of it... just some purple smudges on my face to be honest, but you can try and scrape them off.

yeah no, i rather take my chances with scavenging
( no offense greenie)

@B&B No problem, I'll just lick it off my face instead... or, get a wet towel and wipe it off, that seems more respectable.

Chapter 2
Northward Bound!

They had left Lamberton far behind them. They had left the lake far behind them. From what Niger could see, they had left all signs of civilisation far, far behind.

A sudden jolt caused Niger to snap back to his task and swing the tiller around. “Armica! Give me a hand here!”

“Aye!” Armica sprang aft and helped him correct their course.

While the river was nowhere near as big as the Nozama back home, it was deep, narrow and swift. The wind was for them, that was a mercy, but fighting the current was a constant battle for every kilometre.

Niger did not know how far they’d come, but they had been battling the river for the best part of the day. He glanced to Armica. She had retaken her position on the prow of the little ship, scouting their course ahead. The droop in her shoulders and the way she rested on the rail were all too evident signs of her exhaustion.

And Fort, Fort long ago had succumbed to the effects of sea-sickness. He now lay in the bottom of the boat, eyes tight shut. Niger couldn’t blame the lad, he too felt a sensation of dizziness.

“Armica!” he called for’ard. “Eyes peeled for a place to land!”

“Aye aye, sir!” she replied. A note of cheerfulness now filled her voice.

“Did you say land, sir?” Fort asked, eyes still closed.

“Aye,” Niger said.

“Good.”

They made camp in a little valley, which lay over a hill from where they’d left the boat. Niger had hidden the boat in a tiny creek running into the river. Fort began to improve as soon as they landed, but was still woozy and had a headache.

There was no game anywhere, Niger had looked for over an hour. No tracks, no signs at all. So Armica had been forced to delve into their dwindling supply of trail rations for dinner. She was wonderful with food, but even she couldn’t make the hard, tasteless jerky, the stale flatbread or the dried fruit taste any better than they were.

“So, Niger,” Armica said when they’d eaten. “What’s the plan? Because I assume you have one and we’re not just randomly wandering in this treeless wasteland.”

“We’re heading north, to the Northern Kingdom.” Niger stared into the fire, thinking. “My father told me of the king there, King Berwyn, who is honourable, true and just. Father said he was just a lad when our people and the Westlanders attacked the Northern realm, trying to overthrow them and take their land. King Berwyn rode at the head and defeated both armies with minimal effort! None could withstand him. My father said that he wasn’t just brave, he was good. I believe that if we approach him, he will help us.”

“Niger,” Armica said. “That would’ve been years and years ago. Won’t he have died? I mean, I’ve heard of people back in the first Era living to hundreds of years old, but that doesn’t happen nowadays.”

“He’s not dead,” Niger said. “We would’ve heard if he was. A new king always announces his ascension to the other kingdoms.”

“If you’re sure,” Armica replied.

Niger rose and doused the fire. The sun was setting in fiery glory over the western horizon and the light flamed in Armica’s hair.

“I’ll take the first watch, you take second. That way old Fort’ll have some time to recover.”

Armica simply nodded and crawled into her bedroll.

Niger wrapped himself in his black cloak and ghosted away to the top of the hill. From that vantage point, he could see the camp and on the other side, the river.

The moon had risen an hour ago. Its soft, silver light glinted on something downriver. Niger was instantly alert. The glint was a swift, narrow little ship travelling north at a fast pace. Even in the darkness, Niger could see the emblem of Arawn on the ship’s sail. Curiosity filled him, this was a courier ship!

The man was having trouble steering. An idea filled Niger’s brain and he liked it. Running down to the bank he called, “hail! Rocks! Careful there!”

The man jumped and glanced around, momentarily loosening his grip on the tiller just as a large wave slammed into him. The light little craft spun crazily and the man fought to regain control.

Niger yelled at him. “Land here! You’ll never make those rapids in the dark!”

Still, the man ignored him and continued to wrestle with the tiller. But the swift, little craft was in the river’s grip now. The ship twisted and danced in the grip of the river, and then, as though tired with its toy, the river flung the ship onto the bank, where it crashed with a loud cracking of timber. Instantly the man dropped anchor and leapt ashore to survey the damage.

As Niger walked closer, he saw the cap and satchel which marked the man as a courier. He sprung around as Niger approached, glaring.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said. “It’s against every law to hinder a courier. You could be arrested!”

“Those rapids up ahead would’ve made matchwood of your little ship if you’d tried them in the dark. Why’d you think I’ve landed for the night?”

“Don’t take me for a fool!” the courier retorted. “I’ve sailed this river many a time, and there are no rapids for another hundred kilometres! I’ll have the law after you.”

Niger shrugged. “You can’t make it any worse,” he said and socked the man with one swift punch.

The courier only had one dispatch in his bag, addressed to King Berwyn. Niger carefully unsealed and scanned the parchment. Turns out the courier could make things worse. Niger bit back a curse. Arawn king? And here too, a declaration by Arawn that he, Forten and Armica were now international outlaws.

Niger resealed the parchment and placed it in the courier’s bag. For a moment he was tempted to just take it, ensure King Berwyn never received it. But he thought better. Stealing dispatches was a capital offence, in any country.

The courier started to wake as Niger closed his satchel and ghosted back to camp.

Slightly late, but we made it!

Playing around with rendering and PixlrX.

Epic chapter and render!
also got here first

Thanks!

Loving the story so far! 😃