Fiction
The Bastard King Of NowhereBy Kevin Knobloch
* * * The High Chamber of the King was crowded with the entire crew of
The Defender – the key flagship in the Fleet of Golahnd. The
ship held a strategic position on the fringe of the galaxy, where
our King commanded the troops combating the Robot Forces. We had
been living in the immense vessel for four generations, growing
our food in the farming levels and making weapons of war in the
factory bowels of the ship. One hundred years ago, after the first Golahnd lost his head to
the blade of Chronicus the Robot King, we were forced to evacuate
our resource-rich home of Katheria and take to the stars. But the
might of man was not so easily squandered. We never took our eyes
off the blue orb that bore us because we knew that baby Golahnd
the 2nd would grow into a great leader like his father, eventually
winning the galaxy back star by star. Though we had not orbited a sun since Katheria, time felt just the same, and we have not given up the battle yet. Succeeding the second Golahnd was a third, who in turn brought a fourth, my eyes now gazing upon him. To the King’s right hand stood a tall, young man in violet
royal garment: this was Prince Golahnd the 5th. The Supreme King rose from the throne, maroon robes flowing beneath
the golden crown. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Royal subjects,” he began, “I have summoned
for terrific news!” The crowd folk looked around at each other, on edge and awaiting my call. I turned my head left, nodding to Ehroth. Slowly, we unsheathed our daggers as I thought of moments past.
* * *
“So what is it you called us here for, Rehmis?” asked
Barth, leader of Farming Platoon 13. “Fellow farmers, I have summoned you here because of some
terrible news.” Ehroth took a step forward. “Gentlemen, we all know Rehmis
is a wise and just man.” He looked across the center of the
table. “Murco, just last week, Rehmis convinced the King not
to recruit your wife to his concubine because of her bad legs.” Murco looked at me and nodded. “So that’s why you kicked
her in the shins.” “Yes, my friend,” I replied. “The decision to
do so was made in haste, for he surely would have taken her from
you, and the Prince would have her to himself.” Murco grunted in understanding. I went on.
I gave the table the sternest of looks. “I think you had better read it yourselves,” I sat down and brought forth a piece of paper, dated back several weeks. My tablemates shifted with interest as I passed the document around.
“The how isn’t important,” I cut in. “The
fact is, we are being betrayed and sold to our enemies!” Ehroth stepped in. “We must spread the word among the crew
that Golahnd is a liar and a thief. For generations our blood has
worked and slaved under a lie, all so Golahnd could trade with the
enemy for his own profit! The Robot War ended during the reign of
Golahnd the 3rd!” Ehroth pounded his fist on the table, driving
home the point of treachery. “Why do you think the Prince
is such a little snot? He knows what he has been born into, his
own plantation!” “A moon palace orbiting Katheria,” mumbled Murco. “The
bastard.” “Yes,” I concurred. “The bastard traitor.”
I stood up. “He must die.” * * * So there we were, watching our King rise from his throne, but he was not our King anymore.
“The war has been over!” More peasants started to shout. “We know of your secret treaty with the hideous robots!” “Boo to Golahnd!” The King looked shocked. A commotion was being stirred. At this point Prince Golahnd stepped forward and spoke down to the crowd. “Show some respect to Golahnd the King!” “Golahnd the liar!” shot back a metal worker. “You’re
going to ship us to Ohkron 5 to mine for the robots!” The King stuttered, stunned. “Ohkron 5? There…there’s
no such planet as Ohkron 5! Whatever are you talking about?” “Lies!” shouted the crowd. They began to advance; Ehroth
and I snuck toward the back of the chamber. But we had the guards, and their swords faced the royal duo in anger. The King’s jaw lowered as a cold fear enveloped him. The
Prince drew a sword and jumped in front of his father. “Keep back, you dirty vermin!” he screamed, swinging
the blade to and fro. The Prince covered his father from the front,
but I crept up behind the King, locking him in my arm with my dagger
to his throat. “Son!” he cried. The Prince turned, his expression morphing from hatred to horror. Everything was falling down around them. Prince Golahnd came closer. “Let go of my father, you farming weasel!” Like a bolt of lightning, Ehroth sprung from behind me and threw
a blade that lodged itself in the Prince’s chest. The crowd
roared in vengeful excitement. Prince Golahnd dropped his sword
and grasped at the handle that stuck from his heart. Moaning his
last breath, he fell to his knees and collapsed on the floor. “No!” the King yelled. He elbowed my ribs and managed
to escape my hold, running and kneeling to his fallen son. The King
placed his fingers to the Prince’s neck; he was gone for good.
Frantically King Golahnd felt for his son’s sword, and would
have had it had I not picked it up first. I stood over the blubbering
coward of a King, the point of his son’s blade between his
eyes. “Take off that crown,” I calmly commanded. He did so,
and the heavy gold symbol of rule clunked to the floor. Without
hesitation I drew back, and lopped the bastard’s head clean
off. Blood spurted from the stump of a neck; the head rolled along
the ground, plastered with a look of confused terror. The people cheered like I had never heard. “All hail Rehmis The Wise!” Within moments, the mess had been cleaned up. The remains of our
vile leaders were spaced out the air lock. We commandeered the control
room and brought the power generators up to full. It was time to
finally find a new home. The grudge against our robot enemies vanished
and was forgotten, as we sailed between stars, searching for a planet
that would take us in. Everyone kept working at their stations,
and we feasted night after night, smiles never fading, their eyes
glistening with glee. The fools, I thought. Even Ehroth never knew. While rummaging through the trash pit one day, I came across an
old radio receiver, through which I heard the news that the Robot
War had finally ended, and we could now go back to Katheria to live
under the rule of Golahnd. I had no desire to remain in serfdom. So I forged a transcript communiqué. And now the crown sits atop my head nicely.
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Copyright Forest Fire Magazine 2005 |
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The
throne is shining atop the steps, reflecting the stars lighting
the void outside. This royal chair, decorated in purple jewels and
green gems, supports the ass of none other than His Royal Highness,
Supreme King Golahnd The 4th, Lord of The Horsehead Nebula! 
“While
rummaging through the trash, I came across a transcript communiqué;
a message from the King Himself.”