Kings and Queens/Fenton II

**Series**:
 **Perspective of**:

**Write a review!**

Fenton

If Fenton knew he would be sitting across his High Commander table with a smug looking Admiral smiling towards him, after only being promoted seven days ago, Fenton would have laughed. He could laugh right now, but he needed to stay formal with the man.

Franco Starburn had been treated pleasantly, as requested by Fenton himself. He was given a bigger holding cell in the Watchtower, a place where he could slumber and walk about. He was also given access to walk around Mount Buffalo, but had to be escorted everywhere. Franco had been holding off telling his findings to anyone, let alone High Commander Fenton. But now, out of the blue, he decided to tell his story.
And there he was now, sitting smugly across from Fenton. He had recently shaven the stubble from his chin, and now looked less like a pirate, and more like a ship captain. He was wearing robes that Brother Adam gave him. Brother Adam was a less strict brother, and was quite young, so was quite happy to help Franco out. The robes made him look skinnier than he actually was. Before sitting down, Franco asked Fenton's squire to get him a bowl of fresh pears. Fenton nodded for him to fetch the food. A few minutes later, he came back with ten pears in a wooden bowl and made his leave.

High Commander Fenton shifted in his seat. His back didn't ache today. Magister Haynes gave him a soothing remedy to be rubbed upon the area where it ached the most, before going to sleep. It was soft and cold on the skin, and smelled like a flower. He just couldn't figure out what kind of flower it was. Fenton donned his High Commander cloak to speak with Franco. Just like his brotherly robes, it had the Brotherhood's coat of arms etched onto it, with a silver crown, signifying him to be a leader in the Brotherhood. His black hair had been combed back with cold water. His hair had been growing out, as of late, he must remember to cut it when he next had the chance. He waited until Franco finished his second pear before speaking.
"Come along, Franco Starburn. I have Brothers and High Brothers to command. Let me hear this story of yours." Fenton ordered him.

Franco pointed to the jug of fruit water that was sitting on the table and winked to Fenton. He rolled his eyes in annoyance, poured the former Admiral a goblet of the fruit water and watched as he took a drink of it and swirled it around his mouth. The smell of orange filled the room. Orange was the flavour of the water today. Franco swallowed the water and let out a gasp of refreshment. He then sat back in his hard-oak chair, crossing his left leg over the right.
"The first time I commanded my own fleet", Franco began, "was the happiest day of my life. I enjoyed the rush of giving those commands. I trained for five years, I deserved it. Oh, Magnus, Commander of this odd Brotherhood, I had the best men. It was a small fleet, no more than fifty men and one hundred oars. The men, they respected me, they appreciated this young man. We enjoyed our fifteen moon cycles together. It was just a routine ship, nothing fancy. We sailed to uncharted lands, lands that had not been claimed by men yet. There was this one man though, oh, he had the best stories."

Fenton interrupted him. "What has this got to with the "Humans with Venom"? Fenton asked, impatiently.
Franco let out a high-pitched laugh, that only last for a few seconds. "Be patient with me, Magnus the Commander. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the man with the best stories. During our voyage, he never shared his own name with anyone, even me, the Admiral of the fleet. We simply nicknamed him "Storyteller". Now, Storyteller's best story was the one of Bellatoma. According to legends, the Venom house ruled there, once, before they decided to make for Fantasica. You know the story I speak of, don't you?"

"Of course I do." Fenton replied. Every child of Fantasica knew the story. The Siegel's took this land from the brave Doncaster's, who held the lands quite gracefully and treated their smallfolk and noble friends with respect. The story goes on to say how King Caladrew Siegel murdered Good King Dragomir Doncaster on the Old Throne of Late. During his twenty four years of reign, King Caladrew had the throne remade, naming it the Serpentine Throne. The story states that many of the Doncaster's ran off before getting their heads chopped off by Siegel's men. There was another story, however, that spoke of Queen Bellatrix Doncaster surviving, and taking as many of her husband's army with them, along with some loyal and royal subjects and Good King Dragomir's younger brother, Prince Regulus, to the beginning of the land of Fantasica. Of course, scholars came up with excellent evidence to destroy those tales, taking them hundreds of years to do so. Fenton liked to think of it now and again, about out the Arm's Guardhouse, where the outer lands of the rudder fencing did not reach. There was no official name for that land, although the prisoners called it "the end of the line". He shook his thoughts away and banged his fist, not so hard, on the table. Franco didn't flinch.
"The very fact that you know this tale and thought about it, it intrigues me. You will get the rest of the story, I promise you. But first, I wish for an answer from you." Franco spoke lightly, his accent curling single letters in his sentence.

Fenton leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Very well. You have that right. What answer do you require?" He asked. Fenton was prepared to answer anything.
"You always inform everyone, including your humbled guests and prisoners, to call you by your surname, yet your Brothers, High Brothers and Sers, they use their first names. Why don't you?" A thin smile spread across Franco's face.

Nightmares, bad memories and a horrid face flashed through Fenton's brain. Memories of his childhood. Of how his father would drink, he would drink like his life depended on it. Ser Cedric Fenton, his name was. He was a good Knight, serving under King Mondrew, the Third of His name. Fenton's mother died giving birth to him, and that was when the drinking started. When he was five, the beatings began. His father would yell his first name, telling him to stop him, but Fenton never could. Eventually, the drink killed his father, leaving Fenton to fend for himself. A few years after his father's death, Fenton joined the Brotherhood and began using his surname. Fenton blinked and cleared his throat. Franco was studying him.
"Very well, if you must know, my mother died, birthing me. My father became a drunk, he once was a good man. Now he is gone. And so is his son. Magnus became Fenton. You have your answer, now continue your story, Admiral Starburn."

Franco nodded empathetically. "Alas, I too know such a tale as I lived one quite similar. But, we don't dwell, so I will give you the rest. The story continues like so; this Storyteller informed me that King Leo Siegel, the self-crowned King of his own unknown land, took over that city, Bellatoma, from slavers, and created a home for his sister wife, Queen Kamara. The Storyteller told me that, to this day, she still lives and breathes, residing in that very city." Franco's voice fell into a low manner of speaking, almost as if he was speaking a cursed tongue. Fenton couldn't believe what he was saying. *He must be lying, this Storyteller has told the Admiral fool tales*, he thought to himself.
As if reading his thoughts, Franco shook his head in sorrow. "I do not lie, Magnus Fenton. Neither does this Storyteller. It so happens that when I returned to Quinnityl from our voyage, I did my own investigating. I spoke to twenty five merchants and fifty five travellers, those who do not like to stay in one place. All twenty five merchants and only fifty travellers confirmed the Storyteller's story. And then two moon cycles ago, I travelled here. I expected to get here sooner, but no smallfolk decided to inform me of how rabid your sea storms were." Franco explained. He took another drink from his goblet, this time he just drank it, instead of swirling it around his mouth.

Fenton stood up, his High Commander cloak sticking to the chair, but it did not worry him. "We must send a letter to Woesien immediately, if what you are saying is true." Before he could walk out from behind the table, Franco held both his arms in begging.
"No, Magnus Fenton, that would be bad. Queen Kamara is alone now, it is known that her family and kin are all gone, therefore she poses no threat. The tales state that she lives all alone in the castle and in the dry city of Bellatoma. If you tell King Maurice, that will start an uproar, and then *he and his kin* will be the next to go." Franco frantically spoke as if his life depended on it. Fenton bit his lip and took a minute to think it through. Franco was possibly correct, if the Clans and Houses of Fantasica learned that one of the Siegel's slipped through his fingers, then the King, his Queen and their three children would easily be usurped and murdered. Fenton couldn't allow that to happen. He sunk down in his seat.

"What would you have me do, Admiral Starburn?"
"For now, nothing. You read. You learn. You have a Magister here, yes? He's in-charge of all books, one of his many duties, go to him and ask him for a book. A book that will help you understand the enemy."

Twenty minutes later, Franco Starburn was back in his cell, perhaps resting or perhaps dreaming of the sea. Meanwhile, Fenton made his way to Magister Haynes' hut. Magister Haynes was quite an old man, but not that old. He was growing closer to seventy now. His hair was all gone now, apart from a grey thin beard. His eyes sparkled brown, and his skin was as pale as the moon. No one knew of Haynes' surname. He claimed to be a baseborn child, but did not state which region he had come from. Haynes enjoyed his solidarity, so the Brothers constructed him his own hut, as close to the edge of the walls of the Arm's Guardhouse as possible. His hut was always warm, his three personal squires always kept it warm for him. Upon entering the Magister's hut, the brothers greeted each other with a firm yet soft handshake. After telling Magister Haynes his story, Fenton watched as the old man shuffled towards a bookcase, humming and hawing. He hauled a large, dark green book with a gold binder, from the tallest shelf and hauled it onto the table, which was standing in front of Fenton. With a part of his cloak, Fenton rubbed the dust of the book, the dust flying through the air. Both men coughed through the dust. Fenton stared down at the title of the book.
"*Creation and Life: The Endurance of House Doncaster and the Siegel Stronghold* is the name of the book", Magist Haynes spoke quietly, "an old friend of mine gave this to when I became a Magister. The first High Commander, High Commander Gunther Brook wrote it. Although, upon writing this, he was a simple farmer from the lands that are now known as The Farmlands. Be aware of how you handle this, it is the oldest book in all of my collection."

Fenton nodded, but was more interested in looking through the book. The writing was written elegantly, and was not smudged, much to Fenton's delight. He used to enjoy reading when he was a child, but stopped reading when he joined the Brotherhood. Everything was different now. He had to know more of the story.
"I hope this suffices, Your Highness." Magist Haynes spoke quietly. *I too, Magister. I too.*

← Previous chapter • Next chapter →