The Exiled King

Chapter 2 - A Fateful Encounter

The man whistled and chuckled, "That fellow is going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow..."

Then he peered at the collapsed prince and turned to a young man sitting in the corner.

"Hey, Kylian. Help me get this guy outta here. I suspect he is more than just a commoner come to drink his troubles away through ale," He said, and then added as an afterthought, "We could be in for a fat payday."

The young man came up to him and stared at the softly snoring Adrian.

"Ugh, he reeks!" He wrinkled his nose in disgust before bending to grab his arms. The other man grabbed him by the legs after having left money for their ale and some of Adrian's, too.

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Adrian woke the next day on a bed, with no memory of how he got there. Feeling his pounding head and parched throat, Adrian knew that he had been at a tavern drinking again. He promptly groaned, rolled over and vomited on the floor before clutching his head in agony.

"Whoa, man! Watch where you spew!"

Adrian hissed and covered his ears from the sudden explosion of sound that assaulted him. His gaze wandered around the room and he saw a man with mousy brown hair held out of the face with a headband, tanned skin riddled with small, pale scars, and sharp blue eyes. He was dressed in light leather garb and had a sword strapped to his waist belt.

The man raised an eyebrow, saying, "I take it you feel terrible? Too much ale can do that to you."

Then he grinned, "Remember me? From last night."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have no memory of what happened yesterday. I was drinking again, wasn't I?" Adrian croaked.

The man smirked, "That's an understatement. You downed so much that eventually you just collapsed in a puddle of your spilt ale. I was there when you collapsed and had a... travelling companion... help me carry you to a room above the tavern."

"Travelling companion?"

The man rolled his eyes, "He hates me, I hate him. The only one who keeps our little band together is Arian. I'm Lasair, by the way. Who're you?"

"Adrian Bla-. Adrian," Adrian replied, stopping himself in time.

Though Lasair appeared to bear him no ill will, it was always wise to conceal one's identity, especially in situations like the present one.

"Adrian. Alright, well if you like, we'll escort you back wherever you want. Make no mistake, we're not doing this out of the kindness of our hearts—your purse was nicely filled and we used your gold to pay for the drinks and this room. The rest, we took."

Adrian frowned, then fumbled at his belt, finding nothing where his coin pouch would normally have been.

Lasair smirked, "But had anyone else found you, you'd likely end up in an alley with your throat slit and your pockets filled with nothing but air!"

Adrian gingerly sat up and asked, "You're rather confident. Are you not afraid I'll report you to the royal guards?"

"Pfft!" Lasair cracked up laughing, "The royal guard is far too busy to be dealing with petty theft at the moment! Honestly, with the current situation, it wouldn't be a stretch to say one could even get away with murder!"

"And," He smirked, his hand wandering to the pommel of the sword that hung at his side, "I happen to be excellent at silencing any potential problems. Currently, I've judged you as 'unproblematic', but that could change..."