The Gonzo Wolf

Prince Connor Wrath is beyond bored with his royal lifestyle. Receiving nothing but the most mundane tasks in the name of his kingly father, and even less respect than the court jester, he dreams of a life beyond the land of Lynnwood. There’s only one catch: The gods of old have forbade travel past the harbors and inlets of the only land he’s ever known. Who are these gods, where have they gone, and why would they insist on such a questionable boundary? Connor is determined to be the first who defies the laws of the disappeared deities.

What follows is IP of Gonzo Wolf Productions LLC & Chad Cloud-Miller

Wrath’s Lament

by Rev. Dare Cloud

Chapter Two

3.0

            The silence of the dungeons was broken by the faint trickle of water. The never-ending flow of rain outside had yet to cease and there was no way of stopping it. Generations of weather and winters had forged a few strategic cracks here and there granting it the ambiance prisoners craved during incarceration. A drop here, a plop there. After a few days, the unpredictable invasive reverberations were enough to drive a man insane. I couldn’t take it for more than an hour at a time.

The dank bowels of my family castle felt unusually welcoming when compared to the cold open wetness of tonight’s battle. Certainly, that entire confrontation could’ve been avoided if Lord Sert had simply seen fit to show up himself. Our opponent had no chance of winning against our numbers, but I guess there are just some in our world who insist on reevaluating the boundaries from time to time. We can smell our own.

Taking my armor off piece by piece was contributing to the ever-growing puddles beneath my numb feet. Rainfall in Lynnwood was never warm. No, it was frigid, bordering on freezing, no matter air temperature or season. It was rather refreshing during those days when the sun rode high and baked you to the bone. I could compare it to that of a beautiful woman’s embrace if it helped relate. During the cold times? It still felt like a woman’s embrace, just one who’s grown tired of your misdeeds a few cycles back.

This was indeed the colder time of year, so the precipitation was an unwelcome hindrance. None seemed to care much after the fighting began, but waiting there for someone to make the first move was excruciating! Again, it all could’ve been avoided if just one of those ancient men would’ve given some slack on either end. The older men get, the more stubborn they become. My father was the world’s worst, or at least the worst in the portion of the world I’m allowed to explore. Lord Sert was equally stubborn but without the swords to back it all up. To me, it’s simple stupidity. Stupidity will get you killed in Lynnwood if you’re not careful.

Piece by piece I dropped my armor to the floor with a clang and splash. All the other soldiers in the King’s army were performing similar actions inside the armory while stumbling over one another, crushing unfortunate toes with their sabatons. Prince or not, they always gave me a hard time whenever the general was nowhere to be found. Calling me names or forcing my face into the privy chamber to fill my nose with the bark of someone’s fresh gift, I hated them all. Muscled up oafs were nothing without their weapons and numbers. The problem was that they made sure to always travel fully armed and dangerous. That is why I choose to perform this blasted activity in the lonely silence of an empty dungeon cell. Yes, I have a bed chamber, but why soak my own floor with this peasant rain from Quimper?

Dropping the final piece and piling it all into the furthest corner, I slammed the iron door for it all to be forgotten for another day. My underclothes were so saturated that I couldn’t feel the sting of the key against my chest when I dropped it down my tunic. I wasn’t sure which of the two activities I looked forward to the most over the next hour. Warming my bones and clothes before the roaring fireplace in the royal hall or winking subtle suggestions to Queen Wrath at the expense of my father’s ignorance.

I’d heard it all before from the man I considered my best friend in all the halls of Castle Blanchet. Ironically, this person is the court jester, but he always offers the most solid advice toward questionable situations. No, Tawn Mannon was the closest thing I had to a real brother even though I was blood-related to the future king who resided a few doors away from my own. If only you could choose family, I often thought. If only Tawn were my real brother instead of Killian.

I loved the man, I truly did. We had so much in common when it came to how others looked upon us. At least his insults were expected since he was the court jester by appointment.

“The two of you have got to stop making eyes at one another,” he warned. “Your father will string you up for sure if you get caught sullying his flower. I don’t care how pretty that smile is when you’re looking down on her.”

Tawn was never quite proud of my replies during these conversations. It was never Queen S’Varick’s smile that kept me coming back to her chamber while my father snored from drunkenness upon the throne. It had everything to do with how her arms felt around my waist, holding on tightly as though falling from the highest tower. It was her scent after being bathed by the handmaidens before bed. Mostly, it was that angelic voice whispering to take her places into which she’d never been. Then again, that wasn’t too grand of a request. She’d remained untouched since before her wedding night and my father’s manhood disappeared years ago, swallowed by the fat of his own gluttony. The poor man inadvertently made turtles jealous whenever forced to expose and relieve himself via the shoreline.

The lady deserved much more than what she’d get between now and my father’s passing. After that she’d be pawned off to my brother like a secondhand sheath. Neither genuinely loved her nor would they know how if they mustered the sensibilities to try. No, I loved her with all my heart, and it had little to do with the games she and I played beneath the pelts. She was indeed worth the price of discovery.

***

            “What do you mean?” asked my father. “Are you saying that you don’t want to be the intermediary on the battlefield? You don’t enjoy being the face of the kingdom? Do you know how many men would give their right eye for the opportunities and blessings you receive here in Lynnwood?”

“By the gods, father!” I replied. “One damn question at a time please! I can’t answer your ramblings all at once, so please allow me to take them in turn!”

I hated family gatherings during the morning meal. Traditionally, the entire family sat at a lengthy, rectangular table in the castle’s great hall beside an enormous, roaring fireplace to shed the overnight cold. My father occupied the head of the table while everyone else ignored the existence of assigned seating. We landed where we did on most mornings unless King Wrath really wanted to tear into someone; then he would place them the furthest away. He enjoyed yelling.

“I’m saying I don’t want to be the front man on the battlefield because it’s completely pointless,” I continued. “General Canaby does whatever he wants. I’m nothing but a glorified messenger.”

“You watch your tone, young man,” barked Canaby.

“See what I mean? The general of your army just scolded your son, the prince, and no one flinched, broke wind, or batted an eye!”

No one, from my father on down to my brother, even noticed the war-hardened bastard just insulted me at my own table! This was the exact point I was attempting to make, but no one got it. Why put my own life in danger if no one intends on respecting that life in the first place? On top of that, why was this man even having a meal with my family? It made me wonder if he had blackmail fuel on my father and weaseled his way into special privilege. The possibilities were endless within the halls of Wrath. I was no different.

I continued. “To answer your second question, it doesn’t matter that I’m the face of the kingdom. If I’m armored up in battle, my face isn’t visible from my visor! Also, I dare not wear any type of identifying cloak or colors for fear of making myself a more important target! You could dress up Tawn the Jester in my armor and no one would know better!”

Silence. They stuffed their fat mouths with food while I spilled my heart out onto the table. I’m certain they were hoping I would run out of breath so they could enjoy their breakfast, but I wasn’t about to give them pleasure. If they were going to sit here and eat, I was going to give their ears a treat. After an hour, they surely wouldn’t mind if I took meals in my own chamber. I rather liked eating in solitude, to be honest.

My morning’s final hurrah sounded. “And as far as the men who’d line up to take my place as prince in Lynnwood, I dare them to form a line. I am Prince Connor Wrath and I’ll be damned if I let a soldier or peasant take my place as the court’s whipping boy. It may not be the fantasy most men dream of, but it’s mine. Only the intervention of the gods could change my birthright and, since they’ve chosen to abandon you and all the other delusional believers of this land, I don’t see that happening.”

My father slammed his fist onto the table with enough strength to topple most of the drinking cups. Not that he was a strong man by any account, but the table was solid. Maybe that’s why he chose it. It made a gods-awful noise when you beat it with your puny fist. The moment he performed his beggar’s feat of nonsense was also when a bare foot from across the table started caressing my leg for everything it was worth. The queen knew I was nearing my breaking point when it came to my boisterous father, the ignorant general, or my mute brother. She knew how to soothe my nerves following a Wrath confrontation. I smiled behind my cup to let her know I’d be taking her up on that offer just as soon as everyone else was away on their daily tasks. My father’s voice brought my excitement back into a more manageable, flaccid state.

“If you insist on insulting my gods at my table in my chamber in my castle, then you can excuse yourself whenever you seem fit to do so. They’ll be no blasphemy here or anywhere else within earshot from now on. I don’t want to be associated with you or any other non-believers when the time comes for their return, boy. You’d better get your life straight and do it quickly.”

For once, my father was right. I planned to get something straightened out with quickness as soon as the young queen finished breakfast. If she weren’t full up from the bounty spread across our great table, I’d make sure she was satisfied.

I’m not sure what annoyed me most. Was it the god’s awful sunlight pouring in through the dining room windows, the damned sparrows chirping in the trees beyond, or my brother stirring in his chair as though he were about to say something he deemed relevant? In the meantime, at least it wasn’t raining.

“You know, brother…”

I stood corrected as Prince Killian Wrath finished stuffing his food hole long enough to join the conversation. He always stood beside the king no matter what the subject. Of course he did. He must kiss that royal hiney every chance he got since he was next in line for the throne. It wasn’t like my father would change his mind and grant me the honor instead. I was the younger, the weaker, and the least adored. I reminded myself to be vigilant while sneaking to my dungeon hideout. I wouldn’t want to tempt father into stealthing up behind me and purposely shutting the door. No one would ever hear my screams. A few weeks below and many residents of Lynnwood would have their prayers answered.

“You should let me teach you,” he continued. “If I trained you on everything I knew, you could be leading your own troops into battle rather than joining the general on missions.”

“How about this,” I primed my retort. “How about the Wrath family learns to rule firmly but fairly, and then we won’t have to worry about slaughtering anglers, ranchers, and farmers every time they get the notion to withhold food from Blanchet. Can you teach me that, dear brother, or do I have to wait until father passes on?”

My father had clearly checked out of the conversation the minute my brother stepped in. It was simply fine with me. He never said anything of any relevance anyway. Just the same thing repeatedly. Always insisting that I get it together or act more bravely in the face of adversity. The man knew nothing about me. If he knew how much Gods’ Crop I’d hijacked lately, he’d explode on me for sure!

Gods’ Crop is the only thing we grow here in Blanchet since the peasants and lords of both Quimper and De Haro aren’t allowed to touch the seeds! According to what I’ve been told by the aging members of the castle, the plant has magical healing abilities, and we cultivate it for the gods themselves. Funny that I’ve never seen these gods with my own eyes during my lifetime, and it’s even funnier when I set a flame to it. I’m not sure about healing properties, but it fuzzies me up nice and proper. It’s much faster than any ale and it never makes me stick my head into my own chamber pot to release the evening’s dinner to the depths below. That’s a blessing, and I’m sure I’m not the only person in Blanchet who feels that way. My friend Tawn the Jester had to find out somehow, and he’s the one who introduced it to me!

“Is that what you want, Connor?” my brother brought me back into the conversation. “Do you want our father to die so I can become king? I’m just going to hold you to the same standards. You’re not the spawn of my loins. My love for you isn’t as unconditional.”

I laughed sharply from wall to wall. The queen hid her smile behind her hand as best she could, knowing Prince Killian was way off mark. I subtly nodded in her direction, allowing her to recognize my compliance with her hidden gesture.

“Dear brother, you call this man’s interactions with me the result of unconditional love? I think it’s time you visited one of the brothels in De Haro at your earliest convenience so you may be shown an example of the sport. It may not be unconditional, but they’ll promise you it is if you tip them well enough!”

With that, my brother and the general joined my father’s stance and bowed out of the conversation. It was as I wanted. No one looked or spoke in my direction. I had brought peace to the table where it was rare. After a feat like that, they should make me king instead, right this moment! I already had a queen. Her foot was flailing me like a pendulum from side to side like the clapper in an old church bell. Those toes of hers contained only a small portion of talent when it came to the manner of such things. I’m sure she was just excited that she didn’t need to sally forth on a scavenger hunt just to find it. Perhaps we were equally as lucky when it came to our mysterious meetings beyond the royal marriage bed.

This was my family dynamic concisely. Every morning, my attendance resulted in ferocity pointed my direction, and suggestions from the lot on how to repair my life. Not once had anyone inquired as to what I wanted, nor would they understand if I were to reveal honesty. They’d learn soon enough.

***

“You know they’re going to hunt us down and hang us from the highest tree in De Haro, right?”

“My apologies, your grace,” came my muffled response. “I’m not ignoring your warning, it’s just not polite to speak with your mouth full. Also, your thighs were squeezing me during that last bit, so I couldn’t hear what you were saying. How are you managing to have a meaningful conversation with me while I’m serenading the old naughty?”

“Talent, and we shouldn’t be doing this,” she said. “Your father and brother were so mad at you after breakfasting this morning they’d surely decapitate you if witnessed in your current position!”

“Bold words for someone who’s already finished,” I accused.

It was a wonderful afternoon in Lynnwood. A refreshing afternoon breeze flowed from window to window through my chamber, kissing my exposed buttocks as they shivered by. King Wrath and Prince Killian were out hunting and accessing the damage in Quimper from the night before. I’m sure father just wanted to look Lord Sert in the eyes to give him that overall feeling of disappointment. I knew it all too well from childhood. I planned to do everything within my power to calm the sweet girl’s nerves. Honestly, I was a bit high-strung myself and could use a good sigh. Two if I were lucky.

“I don’t expect that they’ll be back from up north too long before the sun sets, so we’ve got all the time in the world, S’Varick. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself. I can imagine it’s something you don’t receive in my absence.”

Immediately, the queen sprung from my bed and adjusted her dress to remove my playthings from sight. This was the part of our secret relationship I loathed. It was the talking part; the part which dealt with our shrouded future. It was a dream of hers to be out from under my father’s thumb and into the arms of the man she loved. I hated to burst her royal bubble, but the only way that fantasy would ever play out would be if King Wrath perished without blame. All eyes would look to me regardless. I was the son he despised, and everyone knew it.

She plopped down in a chair I’d dragged over to the window to glance across the Sea of Torrance. I preferred to watch the sun set behind the water and the stars awaken with a subtle twinkle just as a good gift of Gods’ Crop blessed me. It wasn’t anything to alert the guards about, but it was magical as far as I was concerned. There wasn’t much in my tiny world to get me aroused more than burning Crop and secretly ravishing the queen. It was time to reach greatness; perhaps tempting fate.

No one ever accomplished great things by remaining within the boundaries of their comfort zone. In Lynnwood, no one ever accomplished great things at all. Your deeds mattered little, and birthright meant everything. My father was king, my brother was next in line, and his inevitable children would follow. Children planted firmly within the woman I loved, not to mention against her will. That wasn’t going to happen. Not if I could help it.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” I asked.

“Connor, we can’t be seen anywhere else in the castle together without tipping everyone off…”

“No, I mean really getting out of here,” I stopped her. “I mean why don’t we leave Lynnwood? You want to be with me, and I want to be with you. No one is ever going to let that happen if we’re stuck on this rock. Let’s steal a fishing boat, load it up with everything we need, and just go wherever the wind takes us. It could be you and me in a new world where no one could tell us what we could and couldn’t do.”

S’Varick stared with her mouth agape like she’d just heard a Bard’s nonsensical rhyme. It was damned close. No one left Lynnwood, nor had Lynnwood ever received visitors. Surely, we weren’t the only inhabitants of our world, and there was only one way to find out.

“Connor, that’s insane!” S’Varick answered. “The gods have forbidden us from leaving the boundaries of the harbor! On top of that, if we did manage to do so without anyone on Lynnwood or in the skies above noticing our escape, the creatures who inhabit the Sea of Torrance would surely devour us!”

I gazed around the room in wonder. How could such an intelligent and beautiful being believe in such things? Surely her family dragged her to worship weekly like every other child in Blanchet during their upbringing. I, on the other hand, stopped believing in ghosts from the moment I reached the age of reason. Nothing would convince me otherwise. The gods were a farce to keep the commoners in line, plain and simple. I planned on proving it to everyone with or without her blessing. I can imagine that, if my hunches were correct, that there would be more than my fair share of ladies in other lands to run circles around those of my fearmongering homeland.

I advanced to S’Varick and knelt before her with utmost sincerity. “I’m going to prove it to you, my lady. I’m going to find life beyond the walls of this castle and return to show you what truly lies beyond the reach of King Collus Wrath.”

I couldn’t tell if she was shuddered by my “blasphemy” or just upset that I planned to leave, but she left my chamber in a gush of tears. What she didn’t know was that I’d been planning this departure for quite some time. The boat hid in a grove of trees in the northernmost section of Talia Harbor and camouflaged from sight for nearly four seasons. She was stocked with provisions, weapons, and everything else an adventurer would need to succeed against the unknown. I was leaving with or without her.

Chapter 3 Coming Soon…