Kingdom of the Donkey

Things were more awkward than ever between Lina and me the next morning. She, again, would not meet my eyes as she changed my bandages. However, this time was more tolerable as she still smiled when she talked to me and allowed me to sit beside her in the driver’s seat as we continued our journey. I was strong enough to do so, thanks to Dietrich’s promised healing, but the pain was still there, and I could not stand on my own. I prayed we did not get into too much trouble for the time being. But knowing our track record thus far, I was not too hopeful.

It took but a few hours for us to come upon a small gatehouse that marked the border between Cross and Alten. There were major changes to the landscape even before we reached it. While we traveled, the rolling grasslands and forests of Cross flattened out to rocky plains, green withering into browns and grays. From a distance, we saw that the rocks began to grow, evolving into cliffs that dwarfed us as we passed beneath them. I had never seen such sights, never had anything other than trees and buildings stand taller than me. Nor had I ever felt so walled in as with every step, I could feel the cliffs getting closer, trapping us in.

By the time we reached the gatehouse, we could not see more than a hundred feet on either side of us. The building was small, carved from the same brownstone as the cliff it sat under. The walls on either side were mounted with brown flags bearing the insignia of Baldwin the Donkey. The creature was noble yet unassuming, resembling Ulrich in more than a few ways, though Baldwin’s ears were noticeably longer.

“Halt!” said an older guard as he leaped up and barred our path. “What business do you have coming down this here path?” His voice bounced on the cliff walls, making his already booming voice all the louder. The man’s uniform was the same brown as the flags, only much more worn and shabby. The spear he held, however, looked polished and quite lethal. Ulrich glanced at me and said, “I’ll handle this,” before stepping out to meet the guard. “Don’t have time to meet with old friends, eh, Anselm?”

The man’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the sight of Ulrich, and he broke out into a smile. “Velvet Crystal! That you, Ulrich?”

“Sure is.”

Anselm scratched his head in bemusement and eased his hold on his spear, “Almost didn’t recognize you, my friend. It’s been too long.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes As if it could be anybody else. How many talking horses do you know? Though I thought this, I could not rule out the possibility I was wrong. Alteninans were a mystery to me. I had not even realized until now that Ulrich’s accent was Altenian, which thickened to match Anselm’s lilt.

The man’s eyebrows drooped, “Heard ‘bout yer old man. My condolences. Congrats on makin’ sheriff.”

“Thank you. Retired now, though. Thought I’d spend it escortin’ these here good folk. Glad to see they still have you on border duty, even after all these years. Figured you’d be retired by now, too.”

Anselm shrugged, “Naw, stick to what you know and all that. I’ve always had a good eye for identifyin’ suspicious folk.” His beady eyes narrowed as they rested upon us. “And, those are some mighty suspicious folk yer travelin’ with there, Ulrich. You sure they’re on the up and up?”

“I wouldn’t worry ‘bout ’em, Anselm,” said Ulrich, “These folk’r with me. That there’s one of the Wolfskreuz. We’re here on official business, passin’ through to Sunfield.”

“Wolfskreuz, you say?” Anselm continued to scrutinize each of us. I did my best to look as innocent as I was, but the man had a way of making me think of every sin I’d ever committed. Even Dietrich looked uneasy as the man’s eyes passed over him.

Anselm opened his mouth, but Ulrich interjected. “If yer wonderin’ about the biggun, you can see he’s been tamed. Jest look at ‘em, tied up like that. He’s as docile as an owlbear in the middle’a winter.”

Each second the man spent looking between the three of us was agonizing. None of us spoke until nearly a minute when Anselm nodded. “Go on,” he said with a jerk of his head.

I smiled, “Thank you, good sir. On behalf of the Wolfskruez family. I am in your debt.”

Anselm’s expression soured, “Save it. I don’t like your type, sir. I’d send everyone else through but you if I had my way. Even the Deborn lookin’ one. Thank the Forces that be, you have Ulrich’s endorsement.”

I choked back my offense and forced a smile back on my face. “I certainly do.”

Anselm stepped back so that our way was clear. “I’ll let the guards at the checkpoint know yer comin’.”

I barely had time to think about how the guard would send word before Ulrich led our way past him. All the while, the man fixed me with a dirty look.

“One more thing,” said Anselm, which made us stop. I could see the man through the rear curtains of the wagon. His expression was severe.“A warnin’. Alten’s been in a frenzy since it heard of the Demon King’s dyin’.”

Ulrich looked back at the man, “That’s understandable. They must be celebratin’ all over.”

“Not what I mean,” said Anselm, his tone grim, “There’ve been unsavory types croppin’ up, chasin’ rumors of a treasure.”

Dietrich’s eyes shone at that, “A treasure?! What kind of treasure?”

The man waved at him dismissively. “It’s not anythin’ you need to worry about, pale stranger. Thing’s not real. Just keep an eye out for anybody lookin’ to take advantage of you. Y’all stick out like a parade of fools.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, Anselm,” said Ulrich.

He smiled and saluted. “Good. May your winds be silver and your songs diamond.”

“Same to you, my friend.” Ulrich turned away and led us forward. When we were far enough away, I could no longer keep my offense to myself. “How could he speak to me like that? I was nothing but courteous.”

Ulrich chuckled, “You just answered yer own question, Mr. Prince. Altenians pride themselves as a simple people. They aren’t about that hoity-toity stuff. They think it’s all hooey. Makes you sound fake, even if you mean it.”

“You could have told me,” said I.

He gave me a sidelong look, “And what would you have done, eh? Try to talk like a plainfolk? On second thought, maybe I should’ve told you. I would’ve loved to see you try.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” I sighed, “Still, it doesn’t give him the right to speak to a prince like that.”

Lina shook her head. “He has every right, Anno. We’re not in Cross anymore. This is their land. You can try to take offense, but it won’t get us very far, even as a prince. I say it’s best to let Ulrich do the talking. We’re technically invaders.”

I looked at her in surprise, “But they let us through. We’re their guests.”

“She’s right,” added Ulrich, “Alten laws are strict and highly in favor of its own citizens. If we commit any offense on their land, even if it’s an Altenian’s fault, it won’t be good fer us.”

I blinked in shock, “How’s that fair?” It made me wonder how they treat their own royalty. Alten had a royal family, so they must have some respect for authority.

“Different land, different rules, Mr. Prince.” said Ulrich, “Alten may appear unassuming, but like Baldwin himself, appearances can be deceiving. It’s best we keep our heads down and pass through Alten to Blumentau without any incident.”

“But what about the treasure?!” Dietrich asked with sparkling eyes. “Going treasure hunting sounds awesome!”

Lina touched her finger to her lip, “I’m curious about that myself. From what that nice guard said, it’s a treasure that appeared after the Demon King died.”

“But I’m not dead,” said Dietrich. His expression became horrified, “Unless I am, and this is all a hallucination brought about by my desire for one last adventure!”

I rolled my eyes, “Oh, we’re real.” I was in very real pain; that was proof enough for me. “But you have a point… What kind of a treasure appears—” I shook myself. “No, we can’t. Our mission is to reach Grenna. We’ve been delayed enough. And besides, that not-so ‘nice’ guard said it wasn’t even real. Let’s follow Ulrich’s plan.”

The other two slumped in disappointment, Dietrich dragging his feet. You’re right,” said Lina, “But I still want to know what it is. Do you know, Ulrich? You seem to be familiar with Alten; you’re from here, right?”

The horse shook his head, “Close, but no. Steel was, although he never told me anythin’ about no treasure. Altenians tend to keep to themselves, only interactin’ with outsiders if they have to, so stories like that tend not to spread far, if at all. It must be mighty important if all of Alten is up in arms about it. I’m sure we’ll hear of it just by passin’ through.”

It was not long before we came upon the checkpoint Anselm had warned us of. The cliffs began to widen out, much to my relief. I was not used to the outdoors feeling so cramped. It was a humble campground with several men toiling in various tasks. Some practiced combat with spears, some chopped wood or hammered away at stones, while others sat around a table on the side of the road. All were dressed in the same brown uniform as Anselm.

Stop there,” said one who blocked our path, “You must be the party Anselm messaged us about.” He looked at one of the men sitting at the table, leaning over a row of various colored stones. As we came to a stop, I thought I saw one of the stones, a red one, begin to glow. But it extinguished so quickly that I dismissed it as my imagination until I saw another stone, this time the green one, flash brightly. And then another, and another.

Soon, the stones were dancing with light; all the while, the guard watched with rapt attention. “‘One woman… drivin’ a wagon… attractive…skilled driver…one man, pulling the wagon…very unusual… but harmless… a horse…good friend…trust… another man… claims to be royalty…pretentious…’ They check out, sir.”

I was halfway between amazed that the man could discern all that from a series of glowing stones and annoyed at my description while the others looked quite pleased at theirs. I seethed in silence.

The first man nodded, then looked back to us. “Then keep on—Sunfield’s only another mile or so. If you’re lookin’ to pass through to Blumentau, I recommend you continue on to Fire Wind, which is not too far west. You can make it before sundown if yer quick. May yer winds be silver and your songs diamond.”

“And same to you,” answered Ulrich.

“They’re quite strict,” I said when we were out of earshot, “Much stricter than Cross. Why all the security?”

Ulrich grunted, “It’s ‘cause Cross has got nothin’ of value to offer. Don’t give me that look, I’m jest sayin; folks place more value in ore and gems than monsters and crops. Not to say Alten doesn’t have either of those.”

I could not agree less. Cross had much to offer. Or it would if my father did not rule it so poorly. One would think that the kingdom represented by the unflinching Isengrim would be respected, but that seemed not to be the case. My scowl persisted as the landscape widened further until it opened to a vast, rocky plain.

The only source of greenery was the occasional brush that decorated the reddish earth. Even then, the plants were so dull that they might as well be gray. Dietrich and Lina were in awe. I was not impressed.

“What happened to the trees? The grass?” The climate was hardly warmer than Cross, and yet everything was withered as if we had stepped into the Löwe deserts of the Edellion Kingdom.

“Alten soil’s rich with clay.” said Ulrich, “It’s their main resource. Great fer buildin’, not so great fer growin’ plants without a lot of work. And during a dry season, which happens a lot thanks to the canyons blockin’ any winds, it makes farmin’ almost impossible.”

“Of course,” I said as understanding gave way to excitement. “Which is why they sometimes trade with Cross.”

“Exactly,” said Ulrich with a nod, “Now yer gettin’ it. No matter how isolated a kingdom wants to be, it’s always good to have an ally to fall back on when times’r tough.”

That made sense. Though, with how brazen and stubborn the Alten people were, I could not imagine keeping relations would be easy. Perhaps my father could do something right.

My musings were interrupted by Lina's gasp. “Look!” Her sudden cry almost made my heart burst through my wounds. Were we under attack? “There it is! Sunfield!”

I breathed a sigh and looked to where Lina pointed. At first, I saw nothing but rows of colorful boulders set on either side of the road—until I realized that those boulders were actually buildings. The town did not look very large; I could see where the buildings ended on the far side of the road.

And I could count how many there were on my and Lina’s fingers. Fifteen. Only a few were bare—made of the same reddish-brown clay as the surrounding plains—as most were painted with vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows.

“Wow!” exclaimed Lina, “It’s so pretty!” She must have better eyes than I did because the town looked quite garish to me. I did not blame them for wanting to spruce the place up. If I had to live in a town with only one color, I think I would gouge my eyes out.

And spruce it up, they did. As we got closer to the town, it became easier for me to see that the buildings were not painted randomly, as each bore a mural of intricate patterns upon their faces. There were zigzags, dots, and waves; some bordered on abstract chaos. Some even were recognizable images, such as the sun and stars. More than once, I saw depictions of Baldwin, the donkey, in various styles and colors. However, one mural caught my eye: painted white and a pale sky blue. It was not on any of the buildings but sat upon a thick slab twice the height of Dietrich, which sat in the middle of what looked like a circular plaza.

None of us could take our eyes off of it, even Ulrich. “That’s new. Never seen anythin’ like it; best to not ask questions, though.” The painting covered every inch of the slab. The mural was of a tall building with high spires and towers surrounded by stars of different sizes, which sat upon what resembled a cloud. There was an artistry about it that surpassed any painting I’d seen. Strokes that were gentle, yet striking.

A throng of chattering people were gathered around the mural, though it was tall enough that we could see it clearly. We tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as we listened in.

“Who painted it?” said a woman.

“No idea.” answered an older man, “Must’ve happened last night when we went to sleep.”

“Bet it was one of those mercs stayin’ at the Dawnin’ Day. Who else could afford that color?”

“How much do you think they know about the Starca—?”

“What do you guys think that is?” Dietrich tilted his head, looking at the painting with awe and confusion.

Ulrich shot him a look, “What did I jest say, boy!”

“Sorry.” But it was too late.

The crowd fell silent as they turned to give us dirty looks. It was easy to tell that we stood out. While our clothing was bright and colorful, theirs were dull, plain browns. All wore some fashion of head coverings; most of the men wore wide-brimmed hats, while the women wore head scarves. The only one of us who came close to matching their fashion sense was Lina, and I’d argue that she stood out the most.

A man wearing the widest-brimmed hat I’d ever seen stepped out from the crowd. Though he looked only a few years older than me, the fullness of his mustache gave an authoritative demeanor. His stern eyes narrowed as they jumped between each of our faces. “We don’t take kindly to strangers 'round these parts. What’s a buncha outsiders doin’ in Alten?” His glare was much like Anselm's, and I did not appreciate the suspicion.

But I had the wherewithal to know that I could only make things worse by opening my princely mouth. Lina was right. So, I gave Ulrich a slight nod and allowed him to take the reins, metaphorically and ironically speaking.

“Jest a coupla travelers passin’ through. Don’t plan to stay, but we’re here because Anselm let us pass. They even let us through the checkpoint..”

The man raised an eyebrow, “That so? I didn’t receive any message sayin’ outsiders were comin’.”

Dietrich squared his shoulders, “You calling him a liar?”

Shut up! I wanted to throttle him, though I doubted my hands would fit around his thick neck. Could we not make it through one town without causing trouble? I did not have the patience for another prison escape.

The man raised an eyebrow, “And what’re you supposed to be, hellion? Never seen a man like you. Must be plenty strong pullin’ a cart like yer some kinda workhorse.”

“The strongest!” answered Dietrich, “And if you think you can take us—”

Ulrich cut him off with a sharp whine. “Ignore him. He’s jest excited to be back on the road again. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten the message yet. The checkpoint’s always on top of warnin’ Sunfield. Even more surprised that you don’t recognize me, Gregor. ‘Course, you were a boy when we last met.”

The man’s eyes widened at that, “You know my name, stranger? But how— It’s you! Ulrich the Untamed. Yer the one who beat Kurt!”

Ulrich grinned, “That’s me.”

Despite my desire to keep silent, I raised my hands in exasperation. “Who forgets a talking horse?! Are there others I don’t know about?”

The former sheriff directed his grin at me, “Only one, as fer as I know.”

Lunacy. Absolute lunacy. But I’d long accepted that I had no comprehension of Ulrich and any attempt at understanding him would end in failure. I let my hands fall onto my lap. “Okay,” was all I said. I resigned myself to prison again. For what, I did not know. Talking out of turn? We’d been jailed for less.

The man named Gregor grinned, “Yer a funny bunch. I can see why Uncle Anselm sent you on through.” He folded his arms. “Go on, git. Don’t let me catch you lingerin’.”

I gave a start, “Wait, really? We can go? No one’s going to try and stop us?”

Gregor shook his head at me, “Whadya think we are? A buncha troglodytes? Y’all want to leave? Then go. Be on yer way. We don’t want you here. And I trust my uncle’s judgment fer you not to cause much trouble.”

The crowd parted so that we could pass, though most were still giving us suspicious looks.

I was stunned as Ulrich began to walk forward. Dietrich looked disappointedly at the mural. “What about the ‘Starca?’”

I sucked in a breath through my teeth, expecting Gregor to fly into a rage, but the man only shrugged. “Don’t know what yer talkin’ about, stranger.” Though his disposition appeared casual, his eyes were hard, defiant. “Get on yer way.”

Ulrich turned back to look at Dietrich. “C’mon, boy. Time to go.”

Dietrich slumped but did as Ulrich said and followed. As we left the crowd behind, I heard Gregor say, “Someone clean this mess off.”

I was as disappointed as Dietrich, but no one spoke as we approached the last set of buildings.

“My bad, guys,” said Dietrich, “Should’ve stayed quiet, like you said.”

“At least we’re not in trouble,” said Lina brightly.

I was not so sure about that. We were not out of town yet. Anything could happen in the last ten yards of Sunfield we had left. I would not breathe easy until we left this place far behind.

But before we reached the last set of buildings, we were hit by a wonderful smell. It was a perfect mix of sweet and savory, the scent wafting out of a building decorated with detailed paintings of walnuts.

Dietrich sniffed the air as we approached, “Something smells awesome! What is that?”

Happy to finally be the one to have an answer, I interjected before Ulrich could steal my thunder. “An Alten specialty! Honey-roasted walnuts. We got them imported to the palace, but I haven’t had them in years. And never fresh.”

Dietrich was practically drooling. “Let’s get some! If they taste anything like they smell, I’ll regret not trying them for the rest of my life!”

I wanted to indulge him as I felt a craving for them myself, but I could feel the eyes of Lina, Ulrich, and the entire town bed boring into me. “Yes, well, we must move on, I’m afraid. We are very much not welcome here.” I dared not look back in case the powers that be drew us back in. “Perhaps we’ll have better luck in Fire Wind.”

“Right…” said a deflated Dietrich, who perked up again. “If we make it to Fire Wind fast enough, we’ll have plenty of time to snag some at a shop. Let’s go!”

With that cry, Dietrich took off so fast that he nearly sent Lina and me falling back into the bed. Lina tugged on the reins as if to stop them, but of course, they were completely useless.

“Woah there! Woah!” She cried, “Slow down Dietrich before—Look out!”

Her warning was to both Dietrich and the small figure who chose that moment of all moments to step out of the shop and into the path of the charging Dietrich. Heeding Lina’s cry, Dietrich veered to the left to try and avoid colliding with the unfortunate pedestrian. However, the wagon was not designed for such sharp turns.

I could feel the entire vehicle slide across the dirt in an arc as it pitched to the right.

It’s always something, I thought dully. Lina and I slid across the driver’s seat until we were pressed together, teetering on the edge, and only held in place by the reins that we clutched. Even as possible death loomed before us, I found myself feeling mild irritation more than anything.

Nothing could ever go right for us in a new town. I don’t even know why I even bother to hope that it would be different.

Such was our luck.

To my surprise, however, the wagon stopped with a jolt that nearly sent us falling off our seat. Then, all was still as Lina and I sat, the wagon suspended at a sharp angle.

I opened my eyes, not sure of what I expected. Even so, I was surprised to see a man almost as tall as Dietrich holding onto the side of the wagon, keeping it in place with a single hand.

The man was massive with broad, well-defined shoulders. His equally massive arms raised. One hand, of course, held on to the wagon, while the other was pressed against Dietrich to prevent him from falling.

Though his body looked strong, the man’s sun-beaten face, surrounded by shaggy brown hair, was not so much. He was conventionally handsome, I could give him that, but as soon as we looked at him, his timid brown eyes fell to stare at the ground and his shoulders slumped, taking at least three inches off his height.

“C-close call.” he said. His voice was deep, but his tone was so soft, it was barely audible. He pushed the cart back into place with little effort, then stepped back, wringing his powerful hands together like a child getting a scolding.

A much smaller face popped out from behind the man, peering curiously up at us. It was the face of a girl with the same shaggy brown hair and eyes. “Good catch, Moog!”

She looked no older than sixteen and was just as sun-beaten as the man. When she stepped out from behind him, I could see that she was rather short and sturdy, dressed in the same browns and grays as every other Altenian. She held a small sack in her palm and pulled out a walnut, which she tossed into her mouth as she continued to watch us with eager anticipation.

The man grunted, but his tone was still soft, almost a whisper. “How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?” His eyes were fixed on a spot somewhere to his lower left.

She gave him a toothy grin. Several bits of walnut stuck to her teeth, but she did not care. “I will when you stop acting so moogish.” Her eyes returned to us, then back to the man, who said nothing, only staring at the ground shyly. “Fine. I’ll do the talking. As usual.”

The girl regarded each of us as if seeing us for the first time. “You’re a weird looking bunch. Must be outsiders. Let see…” she tapped a thoughtful finger to her chin. Before pointing at Dietrich, “Big Gray.” She pointed at Lina, “Red.” And then at me, “Headband.” She grinned, “Sorry! Forgot to look where I was going before stepping outside. Thanks for not squishing me. C’mon Moog, let’s go to the mural before they stop talking about the Starcastle.”

And without so much as a wave, the girl ran off down the road. The man, Moog, gave a weak smile that could have been sheepish. His lips twitched as if he wanted to say something, but all he did was shrug and follow after his companion.

I had so many questions that I did not know where to start. The girl had chattered with such gusto that I felt I could not keep up with my thoughts, let alone my words. She had left us with so many questions. What was a Moog? What was the Starcastle?

And, most importantly: did... she just call me "Headband?" But upon looking back and seeing the hard stares of the other townsfolk, I knew there was no point in turning back to inquire further.

"What're y'all waitin' fer?" asked Ulrich, "Yer fine, ain’tcha? So, let's get a move on."

"Right," we said, and followed our escort mercifully out of town.