Well Written
The court was packed with all the fools and nobles from the kingdom. They stood around the throne and the main entrance way speaking of gossip and stories that had travel among their tongues in the past month. Set upon his knees in front of the king and his court was a writer. His face was just beginning to show the creases of life and war, clothes cleaned and pressed, from the ancrease spell that he had learned from his youth. His hair draped over his face which a large mustache spread out from under his nose. His eyes were deep in their sockets and shone a deep auburn. He was a rarity. Born into the noble houses, but rejected them to write the truths and what he experienced during his life. His works were known far and wide, but he found himself keeling in front of the king, feet shackled, hands bound at the wrist with rope and guards surrounding him with spears.
“Scribe, Winterdel Pon Style, you have been spreading falsehood of my name and kingdoms for far to long, you have shamed my name in the written ink and made others question my rule.” The king said, his voice ringing and silencing the crowds.
Winterdel stiffened and rose his head causeing his face to be shown for the first time to the king.
“King, I have never written a word about you that was not true. My quill only captures what I have seen or what I have experienced. True, I have written shameful passages about you, but that was long ago. Yet, here I am, I am beginning to believe that I have deceived my self in my judgment of you”
“Silence!” The king shouted rising to his feet “How dare you insult my ears in front of my eyes, you have done enough behind my back. Sheldren, is it not true that these words have spread across the kingdom like some kind of locust.”
Form behind the throne a man stepped forward. His clothes cleaned and pressed. A robe of gold and white and he wore a large brimmed wizard hat. Strung across his shoulders was a nap sack of leather.
Winterdel gave a hearty laugh as the young man stepped out “I should of known”
“This is true my King, Winterdel has been producing these things on the bases of destroying your kingdom and causing an uprising”
Winterdel gave another booming laugh and the crowd gasped “Sir, this is a mistake. The first time I wrote about you was after your defeat at the hills of Jell. Someone” Winterdel called to the crowd “produce this book and then produce the writings of the Crowell as well” he cleared his throat and continued “I wrote that that king was arrogant, feebly, and quick to lose his tempter. Instead of taking responsibility for the defeat, he berated his generals and army for was his error. I called him a horse that had no hooves. But! Even with this I also wrote, he is young, if he grows and learns he could become a great king.”
The king had returned to sitting on this throne and looked annoyed at his personal defeats being brought up.
“Someone confirm please, bring him the paper” Someone from the crowd cried that they had found both texts that had been called for. They handed them to the guards and they were brought up to the king.
“Sir, this might be just a trick, volumes, might be modified, switched, this could be magic”
“Silence” The king said sternly.
“That would be on page one hundred and thirty, but let me guide your eyes to the writing of Crowell, this was after I had written many times on the king, repeating my observations, the growth that I could not see. But here, page four hundred, when I had caught him after another defeat. This time -”
Winterdel let his last sentence hang in the air. The whole court was silent, waiting.
“This time the king showed me something, a spark of his greatness. A window into the king that he would later become. After his defeat he took time to visit and help his army and generals. Feed the starving battle hardened soldiers, comfort and heal those that had been wounded. He steered his crowds with chants of hope and ideals of a place that would later become this kingdom. He took his first step into actually being a king.”
The crowd clapped a cheered at the past revelation. The roar grew so that it over took Winterdel until he rose his roped hands into the air.
“But, what I see here before me is not that king. I see the king after Jell, the King that has regressed, to a to-be king.”
“This charlatan speaks and writes falsehoods” Sheldren pointed
“Never” Winterdel roared “I do not write falsehoods, only the truth before my eyes, only once have a I ever speculated, and that was about the Malaberg.”
The king leapt from this throne, the whole court cried out and silenced immediately at the name.
“You speak the name of the beast in my court.” The king shook as he spoke “You have brought a storm of curses upon us”
“If I spoke ill of the Malaberg or untruth, yes, but this is true, or at least true to my eyes and soul. I call speculative because the Malaberg is something that is allusive as the scent of ones true love.”
The king returned to his throne and the crowd leaned in as Winterdel started to speak
“It was in Faljer.” A women screamed in the back of the room and the crowd started to vibrate with nervousness.
“That is immpossible, no one survived Faljer” the king said.
“I was not there when it happened, but I arrived just as it was finished. For those that have not heard the tale of Faljer, let me assure you that this tale is true. A large town just behind the Fal mountains. Prominent for it’s wheat and barley it was a peaceful place that was sought by many. One fall solstice a storm poured all around the town and surrounding areas. A storm from the age of legends. Lightening, rain, hail, water spirits riding the thunder and slicing through everything. Nothing was safe, nature had shown that it was sick of our meddling and that it was going to sweep our feeble souls up with it’s wind. Many beleieve that this storm was the cause of the fall of Faljer, but I -”
Winterdel took a deep breath in, the crowd mimicked.
“I rose my hands to great nature and said I would not be denied. So I traversed the grand storm. Twenty, no less, twenty times my life and soul were almost reaped by her spirits, yet I made it to the gates of Faljer. There was no storm there. The sky clear as a crisp apple day. The wind settled cozily. I stepped into Faljer which was not wet with rain, but with blood, body parts and faces that contorted in horror that even if I was the greatest actor on the planet I would not be able to reproduce the looks with out falling victim. My legs moved with out me knowing, my eyes took in the carnage until my legs stopped moving. As if they had eyes of their own I look forward to see what they had seen.“
The court was buzzing in anticipation and nervousness. As if what was being said should not be heard, a buggy going off a cliff. One could not look away or shut their ears.
“The Malaberg. It’s cape was a dark brown, heavy and looked as if it was made out of leather or skin. Storm cloud black armor with needles and blades protruding in all directions adorned it. It’s helmet had large horns spreading out into the air and sharp corners. It’s eyes burned a deep red. In it’s two gauntlet hands were two large maces that held bits of flesh and bone from the townsfolks. It did not move, it did not breathe. If one did not look closely, one would miss it. As if it stood stiller then a statue. My soul rose from my body and I stood, eyes affixed. Then it moved, but I did not. It’s movements were so fluid that I thought it might be made out of water. Between fluid movements and complete stillness it turned and looked around. Then it stepped forward. As it’s foot struck the ground it sent a ripple out from it that I could feel through my whole being. It saw me. With out it’s blazing eyes staring, I knew that it had seen me. It stepped one more in a direction away from me, and I ran. I ran faster then I could tell my self. I had heard the stories and I awaited a mace to my skull, my bones and spirits being ripped from wailing body. I ran from this, but also towards it. I ran to the gates and straight into a set of imperial guards escorting a band of fellows to the town. I was mad, I raved for days after that. I took months to recover my mind.”
There was silence in the court as they all took it in and recovered themselves. The king sat staring deeply and Winterdel.
“Guards, execute the young Sheldren, as he has been spreading the lies” the king said quietly.
The guards moved to take Sheldren.
“Wait wait, my king, let me offer a more devilish punishment. Discredit young Sheldren, credit me. Let his name be desecrated by your rule and restore mine. This will ensure the punishment follows him for the rest of his days, don’t let it be so easy for him”
Sheldren begged for death in front of the king, but he took Winterdel’s idea. Sheldren the writer, was now known as Sheldren the False.
–
The gates to the main kingdom closed behind them. Winterdel and Sheldren walked hand and hand on the dirt road into the large forest south of the castle.
“You know, I knew it was you as soon as I started reading what was being said. Your prose, it’s still weak, improved, but still weak. I am more ashamed that some thought that the prose came from me” Winterdel said
“Why did you do that, why didn’t you let them just kill me” Sheldren sighed
“You fool, you left there with your life, as long as your alive you can keep writing. Change your name, change your style, do what ever you want now. We the writers choose what will be read. If you die and something is declared about you then there is nothing you can do about it.”
They came to a small inn off the main road.
“This is where I am to rest my feet, not as young as I used to be”
“Is it true, you saw the Malaberg?”
Winterdel took in a deep breathe and frowned nodding. “Yes, I did. It took me almost a year to write anything after witnessing that thing, I taught you well Sheldren. I know we had our fights and that you hate me, but please, live, write, for both of us”
Sheldren lips quivered as his eyes filled up with tears “I will, see you when my eyes set upon you”
“See you when my eyes set upon you Sheldren, Godspeed”
-
Inspired by a bit of Hyperion and the Shrike. When I thought of the monster I pictured something like the Shrike from the Hyperion series. This whole story came to me during my shower the other day. The monologue between the king and Winterdel took place and when he was accused of falsehoods the story of the Malaberg entered to make it a bit more mystical. I would be up to returning to this world, it is very magical, but at the same time, some beasts are to scary to be real, odd isn’t it.