Clown Wyrm - 20. Chapter 20 - The Capital

“We need to find an inn for the night,” Norjia stated.

“The King’s Head?” the Mechanic suggested.

“The King’s Head?” Periwinkle repeated.

Norjia nodded. “There are taverns called the King’s Head in most of the towns surrounding the capital. It’s a fairly standard name here.”

The street that led to the King’s Head was steep, climbing the volcano’s slope up to one of the main Armonia City town squares. The wives informed the clowns that there were city squares set up on the four cardinal sides of the ancient mountain, and each had something different to offer. The group passed a sign for the Western Armonia City Center, and the King’s Head was at one of the square’s corners. Next door to it was a shop selling religious icons.

“Oh gross,” Mercury whispered to Periwinkle, “it’s like one of those Christian bookstores that are everywhere back home.”

He snorted a laugh. “Remember the episode of Penn and Teller’s Bullshit where they visited one?”

“I do!”

They both laughed.

Quite a lot of locals were still out and about in the bustling square as the night darkened. There were street vendors trying to make a few final sales before closing. A café offered caffeinated drinks for anyone who would be staying up late. People were talking and laughing, and a group of teenagers was loitering by a fountain of a naked man holding a stone orb. The water was bubbling out of the figure’s hands beneath the sphere, and the ball was slowly turning and shifting as the water flowed from under it.

The Mechanic stepped up to the entrance of the King’s Head, pulled open the front door, and the four travelers entered. A lively trio of musicians played a merry jig on a raised stage in one corner, while a man and a woman performed a dance together down on the main floor below them.

“Welcome to the King’s Head,” said a woman carrying a tray of dirty dishes toward the back of the bar. “You lot here for dinner and a show, or are you staying the night?”

“For the night, please,” the Mechanic replied.

“Sounds good, how many rooms?”

“Just one,” the Mechanic stated.

Mercury and Periwinkle focused on the wives, and he said, “Do you two want to have your own room for the night?”

Norjia and the Mechanic smiled.

“Thanks for offering, but since our funds are limited, I think we should just share one room.”

The barwoman nodded. “One room it is.”

A few minutes later, the quartet was in a room with two beds and little else.

“Norjia, let’s do a treatment for your leg,” her wife encouraged, “and afterward, we can either head down for supper or order something to be brought up here.”

The bandages and medicine they had been given by the women at the campsite three days earlier were gone, and the supplies from the hospital in Urliov Township were running low, but it had all helped Norjia’s leg immensely.

She hissed as her wife gingerly removed the bandage. The gory fissure in her thigh was gruesome. Purple, green, and yellow bruising surrounded the wound. The medicine had begun to stitch her muscles back together in a way that Mercury and Periwinkle had never seen with medicine in their world. Norjia’s leg was healing very well, despite how recently the attack occurred, the severity of the injury, and the fact that she had walked on it for three straight days.

“You’re one tough chick,” Mercury whispered.

Norjia chuckled through her gritted teeth.

When her wife finished reapplying the medicine and wrapped a fresh bandage around Norjia’s leg, she asked, “What do you think, love, dinner downstairs or in the room?”

Norjia let out a relieved breath and relaxed her shoulders. She looked around the small space. “There’s no table in here, so let’s head down. Besides, I wouldn’t mind some music. It’d be a nice distraction.”

Each of them could feel the faint thumping from the percussionist through the floor beneath their feet.

As the four reentered the tavern, the band finished the song they were playing, and the crowd cheered, and Periwinkle said, “Thank you, thank you,” pretending the applause was for him. Mercury laughed.

There were no empty seats, but as the singer was introducing the next song, a pair of men at a table waved the quartet in their direction.

“We spotted your crutches,” one of them said, nodding to Norjia and rising from his seat. “Please, take our table.”

His companion finished the last of whatever he was drinking, and he also stood. “It’s all yours, folks.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Norjia replied.

“Thanks a lot, fellas,” the Mechanic added.

The men cleared away their empty goblets and headed to the bar to drop them off.

“Nice guys,” Mercury commented as she took the seat opposite Norjia.

The next song began, and the singer sang.

With the rising of the sun

When the morning stakes its claim

Upon the wings of eagles

I’ll forever speak your name

R’Kathlug!

Mercury leaned across the table and whispered to the other three, “Why are religious lyrics always so uncreative?” and they laughed as the song continued.

In every worldly city

In the villages the same

From mountains to the rolling seas

We’ll forever speak your name

R’Kathlug!

“At least the dancers are good,” Mercury commented.

The chorus was simply a repetition of the dragon’s name four times, while the dancers danced.

The man was very flexible. He leapt into the air and kicked one leg forward and the other back in quick, floating splits. He landed on his toes and twirled as the woman moved around him with swift elegance and ethereal grace. Her arms and legs were long and lean, and she swayed and swooped, and the pair enchanted the onlookers.

Oh great wyrm

R’Kathlug

We praise your holy name

R’Kathlug

Oh divine dragon

R’Kathlug

I will forever speak your name

The song went through another double-chorus, singing the old god’s name eight more times before the music ended, and the crowd again cheered.

Mercury leaned across the table toward the wives and asked, “Is it weird that they’re a religious band? I mean, we have annoying Christian bands back where we’re from, but are there like a lot of – I don’t know – dragon bands? And is there a name for people who follow the dragon?”

The Mechanic nodded and said under her breath, “R’Kathlians, most people in these parts are royalists rather than practicing R’Kathlians, since they don’t actually have access to the dragon, and they just benefit from being close to it, but the true believers are called R’Kathlians.”

“Do the followers pray to it?” Periwinkle asked.

Norjia shook her head. “No, people chant to themselves about the dragon, or about magic, or the king.” She glanced up at the band. “The chants are easy for musicians to turn into songs, as you heard.”

One of the waiters approached their table. He was a handsome fellow. “Evening, cuties, and what can I getcha?”

“I noticed you have bottles of cloudwine, behind the bar,” the Mechanic replied as the next song began. “We’ll take one with four glasses.”

“Rightee-o!” The barman twirled to the music and smiled at them as he went to get their order.

“What’s cloudwine?” Periwinkle asked.

Norjia snickered. “It’s a cheap, low-alcohol, ginger brew. It’s good!” she added, giving her wife a peck on the cheek.

“You seem to be doing okay,” Mercury commented to her. “Has the medicine we got in…Urloff Town… no, that’s not right, is it?”

The wives laughed, and Norjia replied, “Yes, the medicine we got in Urliov Township has made a huge difference. Thank you for asking. I look forward to getting our journey started tomorrow morning to try and find Violatia.”

Another memory struck Mercury. “Hey, Norjia, why was she so rude to us? I mean, I think Periwinkle and I have sort of figured it out; every person here has been genetically produced to be stronger, taller, and probably smarter, faster, and tougher than us. You’re all, I guess, just sort of better than people made the old-fashioned way by simply allowing random genetic combinations, like Periwinkle and me. But are there really no people who are skinny like him, or more thicc like me?”

“And speaking of genetics,” Periwinkle added, “why were you and that other knight denied the privilege to reproduce?”

Norjia sighed, but the waiter returned before she could reply.

“One bottle of cloudwine.” He placed everything down onto the tabletop, uncorked the bottle, and poured the beverage into four glasses. “Enjoy.”

They each took a sip.

“Ooh, it reminds me of ginger beer!” Periwinkle declared.

“I think it’s more like kombucha,” Mercury countered.

“Oh, you’re right; it’s not quite as strong as ginger beer. It’s good!”

Mercury turned to Norjia. “Sorry, do you want to tell us about what happened with the other knight?”

“Tagoo was gorgeous,” the Mechanic stated.

“Yeah,” Norjia confirmed, “but he turned out not to be a good person. Tagoo was exactly my type, strong, fierce, a fighter. What I didn’t realize was why he had those characteristics. After we submitted our DNA samples for testing, his results were flagged, and it was revealed that he had mental instabilities in his childhood, including psychopathic violence toward animals and other children. Turns out he had found a way to hide his violent tendencies beneath the fact that he was a warrior. Knights practice discipline. Tagoo hid his wickedness behind his training.”

“Did he get violent with you,” Mercury asked, “I mean, before the fight where you had to kill him?”

Norjia let out a wry laugh. “The first time he hit me was a gut punch that knocked the wind out of me. I was so caught off guard that I didn’t retaliate. The second time was the next day; he hit me in the face. That was right before I killed him.” Norjia looked at her wife. “Like Dizriolith told you, I want to be a mother, and I still do, but it was not to be with Tagoo, so I told him our relationship needed to end. He wanted to keep me as his own, even though we had been denied access to reproduce, and he was evil. On that final day, we had been at a ceremonial event, which was why we were both in full armor when I first found you two.”

Periwinkle chimed in, “I remember your sister mentioning something about a party.”

“Yeah,” Norjia confirmed, “Violatia showed up drunk and belligerent right at the beginning of the ceremony. She knew some of the guests were royalists, but she caused a scene anyway, so I had two of my officers escort her to the keep. I’ve had to lock her up several times over the years,” she added, “but I love her.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Mercury said quietly, and even though the music was loud, the others heard her words.

“We’ll find her,” the Mechanic replied with a confident smile.

Norjia continued. “The day I found you, Tagoo and I were on our way to the High Regent of Mysticism’s for the afterparty and luncheon, and I was in the middle of telling Tagoo we were finished, when he sucker-punched me in the side of the face. He knocked out one of my teeth.” Norjia stuck a finger in her mouth to pull on her cheek and reveal the gap of a missing tooth about halfway back. She shook her head. “I spat out the tooth, put on my helmet, and faced him. You should have heard him laughing at me as he put his helmet on as well. He drew his sword and charged.”

“It looked like you defeated him really easily,” Mercury commented.

Norjia chuckled. “In battle, he was always a brute, and I knew his moves well. Killing him was very satisfying.”

“Norjia, this all happened so recently,” Periwinkle said in a gentle voice.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “To have wanted to have a child with someone, and instead ending up killing them, that has to have been…” he paused, looking for the right word, and lamely landed on, “tough. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Norjia gave him a small smile. “It was hard, but Dizriolith and I spent two days at a retreat out in the forest, reflecting, discussing our future plans, and even mourning. Afterward, I felt better. I still want to be a mother, but the right person has not come along yet.”

After the bottle of cloudwine was gone and they had each eaten a bowl of the tavern’s soup of the day, the quartet headed back up to their rented room for bed. The following morning was drizzly, and the group made their way onto the southern leg of the King’s Road.

“Three days,” Periwinkle said to no one in particular as they began.

The first day of travel was the most eventful of the three. It had been several days since the fires died, but many survivors from the fires in Morlington were still making their way to the capital. Norjia, the Mechanic, Mercury, and Periwinkle asked every group they passed if any of them knew Violatia. Several folks were aware of the drag queen, but no one they crossed paths with had any information about her whereabouts or well-being.

The light rain persisted the entire day, and when the quartet set up the tent given to them by Polly Wog, they were very soggy. They spent a damp, uncomfortable night on the side of the King’s Road, and they were all awake before dawn, but they decided to continue even though the sun was yet to rise behind the clouds.

They passed fewer people that second morning, and several hours after sunrise, the group arrived at a tiny hamlet. There were only six cottages, a small farmstand that was not yet open, and an inn with a large NO on its Vacancies sign.

The wet and weary travelers did not say a word as they entered the inn’s pub and took a seat by a crackling fire. The place was empty.

“Well, you folks are ’ere early,” a man with a rich accent declared as he came out of the back of the house with a tray of clean glasses. “You’ll ’ave to s’cuse me. I ain’t setup for food yet, but can I get yous drinks?”

“Something warm would be nice,” Mercury replied to him, and the other three murmured their agreement.

He nodded and said, “I’ll bring out a big ol’ pot o’ tea,” and he returned to the kitchen in the back.

The four sat quietly, warming themselves by the fire, and a few minutes later, the barman returned.

“Excuse me, sir,” Mercury said to him, “has anyone by the name of Violatia stayed here?”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, “but it would ruin me reputation as an innkeeper if I just shared me guests’ information with strangers.” He nodded at the pot of tea in his hand. “This’ll warm you folks right up, and once my stove is hot, I can make yous some food. Feel free to throw another log on the fire.” He headed into the backroom behind the bar.

A few other guests came into the tavern from the inn’s rooms, but Norjia’s sister was not among them, and after the four travelers had eaten, they continued toward Morlington in the rain. There were even fewer people on the next stretch of the King’s Road, and the ones who passed them warned of the devastation into which they were heading. The people they had talked to over the past two days said things were bad, but it was starting to sound worse.

Evening fell, and the travelers spent another restless night in the old tent. The rain stopped the following morning, and before midday, they got their first view of what was left of Morlington.

Mercury said aloud something along the lines of what the others were thinking.

“Oh, fuck…”