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The Tribute King

The Tribute King

Author: Brandon Hill
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Chapter 1 Prologue

Word Count: 2825    |    Released on: 14/06/2023

, barely winded and buoyed with excitement from his news. Lazlo trailed behind, l

d down to him; Lazlo, sweating profusel

d foot after leaden foot up the staircase, "I don't ... think

n drawled dismissively, and reached out to hoist Lazlo

e grand entrance door to the throne room saluted and opened the door for the Pr

s. He paused before his father, King Korian, and bowed with an uncharacteristic flourish, hearing Lazlo skid to a halt behind him and fall to hi

rs, advisors, or even the assembled courtiers after so grand an announcement, but the throne

ng down the choke of embarrassment with the momentary notio

what became o

those piercing gray eyes that rested beneath dark, bushy eyebrows and a circlet that held down his luxurious locks of ebony hair, with gold rings fas

journey up the stairs, and bowed over as steadily as Voran. Lazlo obeyed, and hauled his satchels to the

shuffling of the bags' leather straps, and then whispering between

sore back grateful for the reprieve, but his innards churning at the sight of his father's express

ned the approaching hovercraft that ou

uards and three passengers, bearing the standard of the Plenteous Lands. I took my fastest dromedon, and with surprise on my side, wiped out the whole retinue, guards and

invite

hat he had no need to swear; Lazlo had beaten him to it, an

alarmed chatter from the assembly. When he spoke again,

t remember the name,

ecome unsteady. A slight crack broke into it, and

word, and everyone present, Voran included, jumped with a start. "The correspondence with the man whose very head lies in this satchel?" He tu

the King. Voran was too far away to see the fine details of the seal, but its distinctive pentagram shape identified it as from House Hamer, the ruling family of the Plenteous Lands in the far north, where the fertile and temperat

ame, and fury crossed his bearded face, and he rested his brow in his hand. He tossed the parchment unceremoniously to the ground, and Voran watched as it fluttered misera

e guard at his left

was a hoarse whisper, bare

n on his face, leaned close

t upright, causing Aven t

eping gesture to the entire

ngs of any kind of relief, his father imme

ave and be thankful that I don't have him beaten for being an accessory to

ne by one, the members of the court and

t of the assembly. Soon, there were none left but himself and his father. The door latch fell int

d eyes, and skin that glowed a new, menacing shade of red. "Two of those three months spent just getting the damn royal court

a proper word to use, "... unfair to blame me! If

his full, imposing height, Voran's excuse se

om his throne and dais, and crossed the floor with a speed that nearly blinded the Prince with paralyzing fear. Before he could step back, the King whipped his ar

of all his common sense?" His father's long, narrow nose was nearly against his own, which was flat and broad as

ords through his pain, but there was no mercy

mista

urvivors before we did! And let's not forget that spectacular embarrassment when you entered the annual dromedon race, knowing that no one would dare outpace you for fear of execution, and embarrassing me in front of the tribal council for it. That too, was merely a 'mistake.' And of course, let's not forget all the times I had you fetched from brothels when you should have been with me at court ... shall we

to reply, but only managed to force a

d. "Still, have I not warned you time and time agai

d that he was certain were not sweat, and his pain pushed him beyond the point where

it look like accident. The wreckage was too far from the Plenteous Lands for anyone to know. House Hamer will most likely chalk the disappearance up to some unfortunate mishap; the hovercraft had run into a megarachna, or a pack of sandtigers, or raiders; who knows." He shook his hands as if he had just h

the throne room's far end: the place where the royal council held their meetings.

and set pen to paper. Voran gingerly grasped his head, struggled to his feet, and staggered drunkenly

andle onto it and stamped it with his signet. Ignoring his son's question, he rang the servant bell. A young boy with the same w

nform the falconer to use his fastest bird. It's to be sent to

s limbs. He watched with a new pall of growing fear as the servant disappeared, the pain in h

much less angry: a state that only made things seem eerier than bef

aused Voran to faint. Staggering, he steadied himself against the table, gasping with new, wrench

he pen and candle back into their holders. "I told you that I would one day make you regret

oran was in a near-panic now. "Fathe

o. And I swore to honor her memory by not looking for another companion. Even now, even though no one would question my wisdom in stripping you of your rights to the throne, I fear that would be too much. Call me sentimental, but I believe that even a damaged vessel can still be useful. And I've made a specific request for your exile to not be permane

ess terror railed within him with the indignity of it all

hose children won't carry your less-than-endearing traits. Besides, the Naga will take thi

te his dismal awareness of the hopelessnes

d you that you would regret your idiocy. Well, my son, your regret has only begun. Get your affairs in order, or lose yourself in the whores at the brothel like you normally do; I care not

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