Thirty-Six

Stepping into one of the rooms, Dumar sighed deeply, again wondering why the old man kept things from him.

"Vilt!" Dumar exclaimed as he turned from the door "How you doing, mate?"

The young man looked up with a distant expression.

"Why did both of you leave me?" He asked in a small voice.

"What?"

"You and Grethron. You both left me after..." The youth trailed off, the memories of earlier events clearly still affecting him.

Dumar lay his bag down gently and sat on the bed next to Vilt.

"We didn't mean to just leave you there, mate, but there were quite a few of those guards and they were trying to take over the palace. Grethron went to stop them. I went too and we..."

"Overlooked me," Vilt stated in a self-deprecating way. He stood and made his way to the window. "As does everyone else." Loneliness dripped from his every word.

What's happened to make you so miserable?

"What's wrong, Vilt?" The young man turned and shook his head.

"It does not matter," he said sadly, "You do not know me or owe me anything. I will survive." He looked down at the floor. "I always have."

Dumar sighed and decided to change the subject.

"Did you know Grethron was the Queen's brother in law?"

Vilt's head shot up, his eyes wide.

"Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Yep. Prince too," Dumar said.

The young man shook his head in disbelief.

"How old are you, Vilt?" Dumar asked.

"I believe I am nineteen," the young man answered absently, still processing the information he had just been given.

Dumar was surprised, he had though the boy barely in his early teens and wondered why he looked so young.

"What do you mean you believe?" He asked.

"I was taken in by my parent's neighbours after they were killed in a fire," the offhand way he said this made Dumar take in a quick breath. Vilt noted it and added. "I do not remember them at all. From what I have been told, I was passed from family to family until one of them kept me," He glanced at Dumar briefly, "But, they only did it so they could keep me as a servant as I got older. I had to work for the little bit of food I got."

"Shit, that's harsh," Dumar said.

Vilt shrugged.

"I did not know another way for a long time," the young lad fell silent yet Dumar could sense he wished to speak.

"Go on," he urged.

Vilt threw him a grateful look and sighed.

"I ended up living with the animals in a shed. The family I was with then ran a tavern in the poor quarter and it made more money to let out a room than let me sleep in it," Vilt smiled. "It was better sleeping with the horses anyway. Eventually they sold me to a man who wanted young boys for his clients."

"They sold you?"

Vilt nodded, red with embarrassment at the admission.

"He made it plain if I did not do as I was told I would be beaten, if I still would not do as I was told I would be killed," the young man swallowed hard. "They put me in a cage for months, with some others and we were moved from place to place at night time until I had no idea where we were," his breath hitched in his thin chest.

"Some of the younger ones died from starvation or managed to kill themselves," tears shone in Vilt's eyes as he recalled the memories and he swiped at them absent-mindedly as he continued his story.

"On the final trip, we ended up coming here even though I did not know where here actually was. Maybe because I am small, the men who were moving us thought I was much younger than I am and let me have a bit more freedom," he glanced at Dumar who appeared to hang on his every word and continued.

"I got them to trust me a bit then managed to get away and through the streets. I did not know where I was going I just knew I had to get away from them and what they wanted me for," the youth snorted a laugh. "I should have known they would not just let me go, should have known they were going to hunt me like an animal.

"I ran for as long as I could before I had to stop and lean against a wall. Without anything proper to eat I must have fainted because remember was being rescued by that M'thar creature," Vilt finished his short history.

You've had it as bad as anyone, mate but there isn't much I can say to make you feel better. We shouldn't have ditched you though, that was shitty. But like you said you got overlooked.

Dumar decided on a humorous approach, opened his arms wide towards Vilt and said.

"Looks like someone needs a hug!"

With his ridiculous voice, a look combining fear, incredulity and a little amusement crossed Vilt's face as if his brain could not decide on one expression.

"What?" The young man asked in a small voice.

Dumar responded by opening his arms further.

"Come and get a cuddle. It looks like you need some man-love and a big hug."

Indecision and confusion played across Vilt's face for a few more seconds before a smile wriggled the corners of his mouth up.

"You are a strange man, Dumar," he said with a slight giggle.

"So they tell me," The big man responded, allowing his arms to drop. "Friends?" He asked.

Vilt nodded in reply and offered his hand.

"Friends," he agreed.

***

A high pitched beeping sound invaded Dumar's unconscious brain, dragging him from the refreshing sleep he had managed to fall into after bidding farewell to Vilt. The young man had left to find Grethron and ask what he should be doing. Dumar only hoped the old man would be fair with him.

Dumar himself had spent some time ensuring the gear in his backpack was correctly stowed and secured before performing a set of stretching exercises and meditating for some considerable time. Refreshed, he had pulled back the covers, slipped into the comfortable bed and fallen into a dreamless sleep almost immediately.

Morning sun poured in through the window, lighting up the room as if someone had flipped a switch and highlighting the lazy dust motes that danced in a ballet carried by some unseen current.

The big man rose naked from the bed and crossed the room to where his bodysuit lay adjacent to the window. The beeping sounded once more and Dumar flipped open the breast pocket of the suit to reveal the tablet which had now fully charged from the small solar panel set in the top. No sooner had he lifted the tablet and was about to switch the unit on, than a knock came at the door.

"Just a moment!" He called in exasperation as he began to pull his clothing on.

A few seconds later, the knocking came again.

"What?" He shouted.

The sense of relaxation had evaporated and been replaced by slightly more than mild annoyance. Timidly, a young girl's head appeared from behind the door and a small voice answered.

"My Lord, I apologise for interrupting but the queen requests your presence."

Dumar scanned the girl who appeared to be no more than a child and sighed.

"Okay. Okay, I'm coming." He almost whispered.

The big man slipped his boots on, hoisted his backpack and exited the room.

Following the girl, he noticed there were many more people making their way about the great palace. Many of these were dressed in drab browns and greys, some of which had been patched, yet more were dressed in finer clothing made from brightly coloured fabrics and decorated with intricate designs.

Dumar also detected a number of different scents wafting through the air, various perfumes invaded his nostrils as some of the better dressed people passed, cooking foods, especially baking bread, made his mouth water and he could also make out the dusty smell of old places disturbed.

Dumar trailed behind the young girl, making a general layout plan of the buildings as he passed through various different areas. Reaching an area he recognised, Dumar realised they must be nearing their destination and was proved correct as they rounded a corner to come face to face with a pair of Royal Guards.

One of the pair nodded to Dumar, although the big man had no recollection of either man. The serving girl knocked loudly on the door.

Dumar scanned the room within. Three of the walls were lined floor to ceiling with shelving containing various types of documentation from full books to scrolls and rolls of paper or parchment. The big man also noticed a large number of metal fittings from which lamps were hung and almost innumerable candlesticks on side tables and shelves.

Old paper, dust, decaying fabric, old smoke and candle wax scents all tickled their way across Dumar's nasal receptors. The remaining wall allowed natural light to flow into the room, illuminating what Dumar assumed to be the main feature of the room, a massive, round table dominating the centre of the space.

Dumar made a careful study of the platform as it appeared to have a three dimensional map built onto its surface.