Broken Crowns {Book 1}

Chapter Six: Elias

After days of traveling with no problems, Elias supposed it would only make sense that they run into trouble eventually. Not many people recognized him, as he had not spent much time with the public outside of Ignimbria, nor had he even had the chance to do many broadcasts. King Silas had always preferred to do things himself.

This tavern was not as quiet as the previous ones, and Elias could feel that something was going to go wrong as soon as they entered. A group of large men were situated in the corner of the room, clearly very drunk and very loud. Their slurred words could be heard all the way across the tavern.

Elias' group took a seat at two empty tables as Elias went to the bar to order them something to eat. More rebel posters were hanging on the wall behind the bar, each of them saying the same things. Down with the king! and Dismantle the royal family's tyranny! And that same outcry, nos deserit veritatem. After traveling all day with minimal breaks, Elias hardly had the patience to even look at these posters. He knew his group was just as hungry and tired as he was.

Making his way back to their tables, Elias noticed the group of men across the room staring in their direction. He sat down, his back to them. No one else appeared to notice the men at all, and Elias hoped that if they just ignored them, the strangers would leave them alone. He should have known he was not so lucky.

An arm draped itself over Marquessa's shoulders as one of the men slid onto the bench beside her, shoving Elias aside. He glared over at the man, whose arms were covered in scars and whose eye was missing, judging by the patch over it. Marquessa had frozen momentarily, but Elias remembered the knives she had hidden all over her person and knew she could handle herself.

Bayram, however, was another story.

One of the large men had taken a seat beside the small man and was pulling his curls, amused at the fact that they bounced right back into place. With every strand of hair the man pulled, Bayram flinched, eliciting a chuckle from the hefty stranger by his side.

Several of the men had taken seats around the two tables, all of them smelling of alcohol and annoying various members of Elias' group. Elias downed his ale in one big gulp and slammed his cup on the table loudly; everyone at the table looked at him, feigning shock, but Elias could see the recognition in their eyes. They all knew who he was.

"Can we help you gentlemen?" Elias asked the men.

The man between Elias and Marquessa gasped dramatically, a hand going to his chest. "Trud, did you hear that?" he said to the man bothering Bayram. "The prince just spoke to me."

"I thought that's what you wanted," Trud said, not catching on.

"Ugh, you ruin everything." The man turned to Elias with a sly grin. "My name is Patch," he said.

Elias nodded in acknowledgement. Glad to meet you, Patch," he replied. "Now, is there something we can help you with?"

"How much do you think the prince's head will sell for in the Underground?" Patch asked Trud, who had grown bored of Bayram's curls and was now drumming his fingers on the wooden table.

Trud shrugged. "Probably for more than his father would pay," he replied.

"What say we find out?"

Before Patch could move, Marquessa had his face against the wood of the table, one of her several blades pressed to the base of his throat, and an arm behind his back at a painful angle. Patch struggled for a moment, but the princess was stronger than him. With their leader already subdued, the rest of the group were now standing as if ready to attack but afraid they would lose.