Old Drunk and the Three-Headed Dragon (Part 1)
“Old Drunk and the Three-Headed Dragon” a sword-and-sorcery tale intended for Parallel Universe Publications’ Swords & Sorceries: Tales of Heroic Adventure, Volume 3
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Just past sunset, two dozen sellswords and blankshields gathered around a campfire outside of town in two concentric circles. A white-haired man with a young, unwrinkled face limped up to the fire. Half the men stood and bowed. Three of the men closest to the fire scooted over to make room for him. Several men called out, “Hello, Old Drunk!” Their tone was welcoming and friendly, not derisive. “You honor us with your presence, my lord,” one man called out.
“Who’s that?” Carlus asked. He was a young farmhand who thought axes could be used for more than firewood and that being a sellsword would be more exciting than harvesting wheat. He had not thought far enough ahead to realize sellswords with unsold swords didn’t eat as often as farmhands.
Je’Markin replied, “That’s Prince Ba’darvis. The king uncrowned of Ackastan.”
“If he’s the king, why do you call him Old Drunk?”
“Old because his hair went white overnight when he was deposed,” Je’Markin kept his voice low. He was willing to gossip about the prince behind his back in front of his face, but not to let the prince overhear him. “Drunk because he hasn’t been sober sober since he was thrown out of the palace.”
“Who has news to share?”Old Drunk asked loudly. “Seeks any lord men who are strong of arm? Are there dragons that need slaying? Ogres that need killing?”
“Is the desperation stew ready?” another man called out.
“Only if you’re desperate,” someone else joked.
“If you have news to share, share it,” Old Drunk commanded.
“I can see asking about who’s hiring, but dragons and ogres?” Carlus asked.
“Old Drunk fancies himself a monster-slayer,” Je’Markin whispered. “Drunk or sober, he’s the best swordsman in the Peninsula. He’s killed several monsters. He keeps hoping if he does something heroic enough, he’ll be invited to take back the throne.”
“Lord Felroy seeks men,” one of the men on the far outside of the concentric circles around the fire.
“Felroy is looking for grooms for his stables, not armsmen,” another contradicted him.
“Copper or silver, it all pays.”
Je’Markin continued, “Monster-slayers are often rewarded. Old Drunk needs money as much as any of us. More, actually. We’re used to being poor.”
To Be Continued
