CHAPTER FOUR
Phaelenx
Phaelenx returned home from the arena feeling discontent and unsatisfied. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home without a scratch – or the last time he’d been so angry with the other warriors. It wasn’t like the fighters of Zheka to listen to such idle gossip, and Phaelenx was sure something nefarious was going on.
Darius was asleep at his work table when Phaelenx let himself inside and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Shhh, your father is sleeping,” Brenna said. “Poor soul, he works too hard.”
“I know,” Phaelenx said quietly. “I am worried he’s going to wear himself out.”
“Aye,” Brenna said with a nod. “You are home quite early, Phaelenx,” she said. “What happened?”
Phaelenx sighed before launching into the short tale.
Brenna tutted. “Child, nothing is wrong,” she said, ignoring the fact that Phaelenx was far beyond childhood. “I am sure the men are just lazy. Who wouldn’t want an occasional day off?”
Phaelenx frowned. “It wasn’t just that,” he said slowly. “Something else is happening, Brenna, I can sense it.”
Brenna threw her wrinkled head back and laughed. “Aye, there used to be a time when I trusted my gut over my head,” she said wisely. “But I have learned to ignore such impulses.”
Phaelenx sat in silence as Brenna bustled about the kitchen, cheerily putting things in order for an early supper. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home in the middle of the day, and he felt strangely hungry and restless. When Brenna set a plate with bread, apple, and cheese in front of him, Phaelenx gobbled down the small meal.
“I’m going to lie down,” Phaelenx said. “When my father wakes up, please, make sure he soaks his hands in warm water.”
Brenna smiled fondly at Phaelenx. “Aye,” she said. “You’ve always been so considerate, child.”
Phaelenx blushed – for what was likely the first time in ten years.
“I love my father,” Phaelenx said quietly. “And I worry about him.”
The sad gleam in Brenna’s eyes told Phaelenx that she felt the same way. Phaelenx climbed the ladder to his loft and collapsed in the straw, closing his eyes and pulling the thin blanket over his muscular body. The air was thick and muggy with late afternoon heat, but he fell asleep in a matter of seconds.
When Phaelenx awoke, he was surprised to see the first light of dawn. He’d slept all day and all night without even realizing it. I must be getting sick, Phaelenx thought as he sat up in bed and reached for his bowl. There was a gnawing ache in his groin, and after he washed his face and hands, he stood up and walked to the edge of the loft, where he pissed down below into the garden – something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager.
“Good morning,” Brenna sang when Phaelenx climbed downstairs and walked into the kitchen. “I’ve made you big a meal, your father insisted when you didn’t wake for dinner last night. You know, you were talking in your sleep.”
Phaelenx shrugged. Again, he felt self-conscious. “I am sure it was nothing,” he said, reaching for a plate loaded with eggs and fat brown sausages. “Perhaps the commotion at the arena, that is all.”
Brenna raised an eyebrow, looking sly. “If the arena was named Selene, perhaps.”
Phaelenx shook his head. “I do not remember my dreams,” he said. “I am sure she wasn’t in them.”
Brenna tutted. “Men,” she said, shaking her head.
Phaelenx groaned. “Thank you for the meal,” he said. “I should be going.”
Brenna passed him an apple and a bit of cheese wrapped in cloth. “I do hope things are calmer today,” she said.
“So do I,” Phaelenx said under his breath. “So do I.”
When Phaelenx arrived at the arena, he noticed a huge crowd of warriors clustered around the side entrance.
“What is going on,” Phaelenx asked Brutus. “Has the keeper not yet come?”
“The arena is closed,” Brutus said. “There is a sign – look, Flavius will read.”
Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. “Why? Worry of sickness, from Nasenia?”
Brutus gave him a dark look.
“Be quiet!” Flavius yelled. “I cannot read if everyone keeps talking over me!”
The men fell silent. Phaelenx frowned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The ominous feeling that had gripped his heart and stomach the day before had returned, and it was worse than ever before. He felt nervous and uncomfortable, and his palms were sweating.
“By order of the royal family, all warriors are required down at the docks,” Flavius called in a loud, strong voice. “The arena will remain closed until necessary work has been completed!”
“What work?” Phaelenx yelled. “What else does it say?”
“Quiet,” Brutus hissed. “He isn’t through yet!”
“All men are required to work,” Flavius yelled. “Anyone who shirks his duty will be thrown into the stocks and fined five hundred pieces of gold!”
“By the gods,” Brutus whispered to Phaelenx. “Five hundred pieces of gold is more than I’ve made in three years!”
Phaelenx nodded unhappily. He wasn’t in the habit of controlling his own earnings – he left that up to Brenna and his father – but he was sure that he’d never made that sum, despite being Zheka’s best warrior.
“Now, we must go!” Flavius yelled. “I will lead the way. All men who wish to obey, come with me.”
Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. Flavius was a timid, well-dressed man, who wasn’t overly suited to fighting. He came from a semi-noble family and was in the habit of paying off his opponents to finish him quickly without doing mortal damage. Flavius had never been a respected member of the warriors, but now he was acting like someone had died and put him in charge of everything.
“This is suspicious,” Phaelenx hissed under his breath. “Tell me, Brutus, what do you suspect?”
Brutus shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “We were waiting outside for an hour before Flavius appeared with the decree – perhaps he is up to something.”
Phaelenx frowned. His forehead was creased with worry as he followed the rest of the men through town and down the long sloping lawn that led to the Zhekan pier. He hadn’t been down to the dock since the night he’d rescued Selene, and now her indignant face popped into his mind.
Was she aware of this? As soon as the thought entered his mind, Phaelenx almost laughed. Why would a noble lady like Selene even care about the fate of the warriors? She’s probably too busy putting her feet up and having a servant feed her grapes to even notice, Phaelenx thought grumpily as he followed Brutus down the hill. She’s a spoiled brat, and I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about her!
“This is odd,” Brutus said, glancing over his shoulder at Phaelenx. “I do not think I have ever been to the docks before.”
“Aye,” Phaelenx agreed, feeling stupid at his lack of insight. The other men seemed disturbed, yet unwilling to break rank and question Flavius. Finally, Phaelenx cleared his throat and pushed his way through the crowd of men. Flavius stood at the head, with a rolled-up piece of parchment clutched in his tiny hand.
Phaelenx grabbed Flavius by the collar, pulling him close and sneering in his face. “What is the meaning of this,” Phaelenx growled. “What is going to happen to us? Are we being sent away on a ship?”
Flavius trembled, and Phaelenx could tell he was struggling to keep his composure.
“Unhand me,” Flavius growled.
“Please,” Phaelenx said, rolling his eyes. “I wish you no ill. I merely want to know what is happening.”
Flavius gave a brief shake of his head. “I do not know,” he said.
A trumpet blasted loudly in the air, and the sound made Phaelenx jump. He released Flavius, who fell to the ground, coughing and choking loudly. Phaelenx eyed him with little sympathy. It seemed unfair that someone who hadn’t earned the respect of the other warriors was now trying to boss them around.
“This is your High Commander speaking,” a male voice yelled. “To your knees!”
Phaelenx bowed low, putting one knee to the ground in unison with the other warriors. When the trumpet blasted again, he looked up to see Aerdan, the Commander, and son of the Queen, sitting proudly on the back of a huge stallion.
“I am pleased to see so much cooperation,” Aerdan said.
He doesn’t sound pleased, Phaelenx thought, trying to keep a neutral expression. He sounds like just as much of a pompous jerk as ever before.
“The arena will remain closed for some time,” Aerdan said. “Instead of fighting, you all will take on an enormous task to ensure the safety of Zheka.”
No one dared reply.
“You all will build ships,” Aerdan said proudly. “You will build a nautical fleet for Zheka. That is good news, men,” he said heartily. “You are all going to be taking part in something very new and important!”
After a few seconds, some of the men began to clap. Aerdan looked relieved, and he smiled.
“Yes, clap, it is good news,” Aerdan said. “You will all be well cared for during this time! You will receive wages and three meals a day.”
Brutus eyed Phaelenx, and Phaelenx could tell exactly what he was thinking: three meals a day? Just how much time are we required to spend on this task?
“It is good news, men,” Aerdan said. “And I will be your supervisor.”
Phaelenx frowned. He didn’t know much about Aerdan – unlike some others in Zheka, Phaelenx had never had an urge to acquaint himself with the royal family. At best, he thought they were spoiled and above the problems of the real world. At worst, he thought they were a bunch of brats.
“It will be a learning experience for us all,” Aerdan said. “And to celebrate, we are going to start with a breakfast before the first ship can be built!”
A lazy ripple of applause went through the crowd, and Phaelenx wondered if everyone was feeling as apathetic and confused as he was.
“Now, men, get ready for the biggest adventure of your life,” Aerdan said. He surveyed the group for a long moment before tugging at the reins of his stallion and galloping away. The trumpeter blew once more, then scrambled after Aerdan.
“This is very strange,” Brutus said as he walked with Phaelenx to a large, lavish table covered with savory meats, cheeses, and bread. “But the food looks incredible.”
Phaelenx frowned. “I think that was the point,” he said slowly. “To distract all of us.”
“Well, it was a good idea,” Brutus said. He grabbed a tin plate and loaded it with ham, slices of cured venison, and soft cheese. Cramming some ham in his mouth, he closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky in ecstasy. “Phaelenx, you have to try some of this,” he said. “It’s incredible.”
Phaelenx shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I ate before going to the arena this morning.”
“Well, you may as well eat again,” Brutus said. “Why not? It’s free.”
“Why does Zheka need a navy?” Phaelenx asked. “We’re not an adventuring country, and I’d wager to say I don’t think the royal family has any idea of what they’re doing.”
“As long as they keep feeding us like this, I don’t care,” Brutus said. He shoved a huge piece of salt pork in his mouth and chewed with satisfaction. “I’d do anything for this kind of food.”
And that’s the problem, Phaelenx thought as he glanced around. Most of the other men were doing the exact same thing, stuffing their faces from the lavish display. Reluctantly, he reached for a piece of bacon and chewed. It was delicious to feel the fat melting over his tongue, but Phaelenx found he had no taste for the food.
Taking it from his mouth, he tossed it onto the grass and went to sit by the docks.