The Coin
If the many tales - including this one - are to be believed, there once was a kingdom far beyond all the known lands. Within this kingdom stood a great city, sprawling across the landscape and extending the power of the king far and wide. During the height of the kingdom's age, a small boy walked the main road leading into the city. He slogged in the mud by the side as peasants, wagons laden with goods, and knights on great warhorses passed in and out of the bustling city.
The boy's bare foot touched something in the mud, and he bent to pick it up. Brushing some of the mud off on his shirt, he saw that it was a coin. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone was watching, and then broke into a grin as he looked toward the city.
The many possibilities for the money swam in the boy's head as he wandered between the shops of the city proper. His stomach grumbled loudly beneath his filthy shirt and gaunt ribs. Just as he was about to spend the money on an apple, another idea struck him. With the coin clenched tightly in his fist, he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him across the city to the stables. Inside, the boy found a stable hand not much older than himself.
"P...p...please..." The boy tried to catch his breath, wondering if the stable hand would oust him before he could finish a sentence. "Please sir, could I have a ride on a horse?" He rushed through the words, eyes wide at his own inexcusable folly for even considering such a thing.
"You want what?"
"Just a short ride, sir. I've got this money, you see. I've got this money and if I could trouble you..."
With a grin the stable hand snatched the coin from the boy's hand. "If you never tell a soul and are quick about it, I'll let you sit on one of the lieutenants' war steeds!"
The boy agreed vigorously, and soon he was atop a great horse towering over all he could see.
The stable hand finished his work and headed quickly to the shops. He felt the coin in his pocket every few steps to be sure it was still there. He purchased a sweetbread, knowing he would have to finish it quickly and run home doubly fast before he was missed. The merchant stopped him before he'd gone a step.
"What's this? An awfully dirty coin, isn't it?" The hefty man scratched at it, trying to clear the grime. The stable hand stared in horror, wondering if it was a coin at all, and knowing he would fight to the death to retain the sweetbread he was already stuffing in his mouth.
"Oh, off with you boy. I'm sure it's fine."
The stable hand left the shop in a rush, nearly pushing over a farmer who was on his way in with a huge armful of sacks. The farmer dropped the load heavily on the counter and sighed.
"That's the last of it, I believe. Tell me, what word is there from the eastern border?"
The shopkeeper began stacking the sacks behind the counter. "The east? You've heard of the fighting then?"
"Of course. Some say..." The farmer nervously dropped his voice. "Some say the beasts have amassed a great force and are preparing to overtake the kingdom."
"It's true enough." The shopkeeper winced, his own voice low. "I wouldn't fear, though. The king's army is alerted now, and I've heard that the prince may be leading them afield."
"The prince!" The farmer breathed. The military skill and wisdom of the king's son was well known. "That is good news! Well, I must be off. There's just the matter of payment..." He blinked meaningfully with his hand outstretched.
The merchant finished his stacking and dropped the coin, along with several others, into the farmer's hand. The farmer returned to his wagon and turned the horse toward the main gate of the city. A moment later he remembered to count the money he had received. Thoughts of the coming war and the prince were pushed aside as he fingered the coins in his palm.
A procession of knights on horseback nearly collided with the wagon which the farmer had inadvertently driven directly into the center of the road.
"Move aside! We ride on the king's business!" A sturdy man glared through his visor, bright plate armor gleaming in the sun.
A squire left the side of his knight, and helped the farmer to turn the cart and move it out of the path of the soldiers. The farmer tossed him the coin in thanks, and continued on his way. The squire rushed back, not wanting to fall behind.
"Look sir! That farmer gave me a coin for helping him."
The knight took the coin, eyed it and then tossed it in a saddle bag. The squire grimaced and scratched his head, knowing better than to speak.
After a week's ride the soldiers reached their weary comrades, and were shocked at what they found. The great hordes had pushed the king's army back several leagues into the kingdom, and a great many wounded filled the small tents.
Only a single day after the rested troops arrived, the camp was overrun by hundreds of the beasts. Despite a valiant fight by the king's soldiers who were caught unprepared, none of them survived.
The beasts looted the bodies for anything that appeared valuable or useful. Most of the armor and weapons were taken in moments. An archer, small for his breed, managed to find the single coin in the saddlebag. He scratched at it with one claw, and then bit it hard between his sharpened front teeth. He hurried back to his camp and dropped the coin into a small pot over the fire.
The molten coin was poured into a mold for a particularly nasty arrowhead.
The war raged and grew, and slowly the horde advanced. The king's army was spread overly thin and outnumbered. One day, as defeat loomed over the heads of the soldiers, word spread that the prince had arrived. A huge force rode with him, and the armies took heart. The prince began planning immediately, and found a weakness in the Beasts' defenses.
A massive battle commenced, lasting for days, as the horde of monsters was pushed steadily back. Just as the tide began to turn in favor of the king's army, the prince was struck in the back by an arrow, and fell unconscious from his horse. He was rushed back to the great city and the royal healers.
The prince's health improved steadily as news of continued victories reached him from the borders of the kingdom. The arrowhead which had pierced his armor with ease intrigued him, and he decided to keep it. He had it worked by a master blacksmith into a beautiful pendant.
Days of rest passed into weeks... The healers discovered that the prince's wound was not closing. They cautioned him against returning to battle, and were proven right as his health began to decline. Nothing the healers could do made any change. It was believed that an unknown poison was at work, and the prince grew delirious with fever.
Late one night, the prince's fever broke and he was lucid enough to speak. The king summoned his lieutenants to the prince's side, knowing time was short.
The prince spoke to the knight who was commanding the armies, and asked for a great victory over the hordes as his dying wish. He then sank slowly to the pillow, breathing his last.
The king was the only other person to know where the prince's pendant had come from. In his grief, he took it from around his son's neck and donned it, to remind him of the loss and the great cost of war.
The king's army soon heard of the prince's words and of his death, and they marshaled all their strength. The war raged for months, but never again did the great horde of beasts cross the borders into the kingdom successfully.
At long last, the war was won. The king's steady leadership returned the land to prosperity in short order, and never once during the passing years did he remove his son's pendant. When finally the weary king laid his crown beside the bed for the last time, his people gathered a long procession. The tradition was to commit the body of the king to the great pyres near the western sea.
As the massive gilded coach on which the king laid left the city, a stone in the road caused it to lurch. The cord around the dead king's neck slipped its knot, and the pendant dropped to the ground unnoticed.
It rolled, toppled end over end, and came to rest in the mud at the side of the road.
Submitted by
Nocte
Date
11/17/05
Source
Vanguard: Saga of Heroes Fantasy Fiction Contest Winner
Notes
Published with gracious permission from the author, Fozzik.
