V: The King and I

Kenny

His feet squished through the grass, fat droplets of dew clinging to the shy sap-green foliage, bursting against his trouser legs as he pushed past. A soggy sky loomed overhead, pretending it hadn't frosted his breath only two days ago. Uri was sitting in his favourite spot on his favourite sodden tree trunk, looking out across the water.

"You might have outdone yourself this time," Uri said.

"Thanks," he replied, his damp trousers clinging to his shins.

"Don't thank me, it's the Lady Traute you owe your gratitude to. I thought she would knock my door down before László would have a chance to get it open. A most curious visit, I doubt I've ever seen a woman quite so furious before," Uri said mildly like it was all in good jest. Kenny could have sworn there was a hint of a smile there too.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Truth be told, not only from women.

"I can't imagine why," Uri replied, but his tone made it clear that he could. "She voiced several complaints about your conduct and then a few more in regards to your character, using words I am far too modest to repeat."

"Ah c'mon, ain't like it'll make your teeth fall out. Ya can't be feelin' it's all peaches and grape juice all the time. Ya gotta blow off steam in some way, and who knows, ya might even like it."

"I'm beginning to suspect you might like it if I did," Uri said with a crooked smile.

"Sure would. In fact, I'd love it if ya told Stein and Friesing to go fuck themselves. Ya could do the whole fiery-eyes thing and make your titan sit on them while you're at it."

"I'm surprised you don't propose that I eat them."

"Ya don't know now where that's been, so better not. Can't let ya die with the runs, not very kingly."

Uri coughed in an attempt to disguise a laugh, but Kenny heard it. In a more serious tone, the king said, "Anyhow, Lady Traute requested, or should I say demanded that I remove you from this case and place someone 'reputable' in charge."

"Great idea, why don't ya." They can have it after they pry it from my cold, dead hands.

"Because I disagree. Do you know why?"

Sensing it was a rhetorical question more than an actual one, Kenny only grunted in response.

"Because I've had a divine inspiration to put you in charge," Uri said.

It was hard to know if he was serious sometimes because he'd spout the most ridiculous blather as if he meant it, yet all the time there was that smile playing at the edges of his mouth. Not quite there, but not not there either.

"That so," Kenny said. The fuck do ya say to somethin' like that? Maybe he's cracked his nut after all.

"Indeed—it all came to me in a dream. In it, I saw a lone wolf with matted fur, prowling the outskirts of a village. The snow lay thick on the ground, the wind howled through the trees, and in the village, men and women raised their spears to drive the wolf away. Alone and starving, it wandered into the wilderness seeking food and shelter, and there it came upon a herd of deer led by a great white hart. Old and tired, the hart laid itself before the wolf and gave it the gift of its body. The wolf began to feast, and as it raised its head, fangs dripping red, it saw the village hunter emerging from the trees. In his extremity, the man had tracked the wolf, hoping it would lead him to game. And now it had. Man and wolf stared into each other's eyes, still as statues, taut and ready. Then the hunter bowed before the king of the woods, and the lone wolf returned to its feast. The hunter shot and killed another of the great flock, and on that cold day of a long, hard winter, no man, woman or child went hungry."

Uri stopped talking, his eyes twinkling with something Kenny couldn't figure out. It made him wonder just who was making fun of who here. It wasn't easy to render him speechless, but he fumbled for a response now.

"Ya sayin' I'm the wolf?" Although a better question might be whether Uri let his dreams dictate all his stately business.

"Not this time," Uri said, in a tone that made Kenny wonder if the king had known he would assume so. "This time you are the hunter. I am certain of it.—which is why I urged Lady Traute to have faith in you. Or should that prove too difficult, to have faith in me."

Faith? Worst joke I ever heard.

"Of course," Uri continued, "this didn't please my brother. He had his sights set on Darius Zackly to head the investigation, assuming the thought hadn't occurred to me. Do you like Zackly, Kenny?"

"The one that looks like a lizard—commander of the MPB?"

"Correct. The council wants him as the commander-in-chief, once the time comes."

Kenny shrugged "Don't know him, don't care to."

"No, I can't say I do either, but the few times I've met him I was glad his attention was elsewhere."

Most likely, Zackly's attention had been fixed on the puppet seated on the throne, a descendant of the Gravenreuth-line, married to one of Uri's thrice removed cousins, or something like that.

"Of course, Zackly was never an option, but you know my brother. He gives me no end of grief about you."

Considerin' that Rod's purpose in life is to prove that worms can talk after all, that ain't surprisin'.

"That why ya gave me this case, to stick it to him?"

"Oh no. That would not be very kingly of me, would it?" Uri said and grinned lopsidedly.

The sun broke through the clouds and the water's surface glittered like broken glass, bright shards of light reflecting in the king's eyes. At first, Kenny had thought they were just a pale shade of cerulean, but the sky blue was cut through with veins of pale silver.

Eyes behind which hid machinations Kenny couldn't begin to understand. And yet, they saw him. Saw into him.

"Well shit," Kenny said, looking down. "Look, I'm all wet now. Why do ya insist on soakin' out here boss? Ain't staying inside the reason ya got that porker of a house?"

"Like so much else, it came with the name. Besides, where else would I keep all my invaluable possessions?"

"Lika ya care a shit about that stuff."

"Caring comes with the name as well, I'm afraid." Uri gestured to the space beside him. "Come, sit."

Kenny sat down. "Surprised Rod let ya outside without a coat on, damned cold out here," he muttered, making sure to sit on his coattails.

"Is it? Ah, I suppose it is. The cold rarely bothers me anymore." Uri looked at the budding trees as if struck with the realization that winter had only just passed. "I run hot, you see."

"Yeah," Kenny said. "I noticed."

He remembered the smoke pouring off Uri in great gusts as he tore free from the half-formed titan's carcass, his blonde hair whipping, the hot air dancing before their eyes.

"I received word of your progress so far. Your findings are… troubling."

"Ya could say that again."

"The papers got wind of the story. I have ordered that the details be suppressed, but Mitras is already in an uproar. People are frightened, the lords tell me, although if you ask me I would wager the lords themselves are more frightened than anyone else." Uri turned aside, looking Kenny in the eye. "You must find the culprit Kenny. At any cost."

"Sure boss, ya just leave it to me."

"Mr. Theil's competence was needed to lend legitimacy to your investigation. He will disagree with your methods, but you must lead him. Here, take this." He reached into the silly priest's robes he liked to wear when no one else was around and pulled out a rectangular metal disc, a red ribbon threaded through a chink in the metal.

Uri took Kenny's hand and turned it, pressing the object into his palm. The king's fingers were fiery hot against his skin, closing firmly around his cold, scarred knuckles.

"What's this supposed to be?" Kenny said when Uri didn't let go. "Wait a minute, this is-" The Fritz royal coat of arms stared back at him, imprinted deep into the polished metal surface.

"It will open any door to you, take you wherever you need to go. None may turn you away," Uri said, his grip firm, the sun gliding along the perfect bow of his upper lip. The king's eyes cut him like a knife, blue and silver entwined.

"If this don't make Rod shit, nothin' will," Kenny said, his voice grating.

Uri's grip loosened. He smiled in that regretful way he did whenever someone brought up what a major nuisance his brother was. An "oh well, it can't be helped" smile, reserved for sawdust in your bread after a bad harvest, and unfortunate family relations.

"Don't worry, I will handle my brother. After all, I've had a lifetime of practice."

The king fell into contemplative silence. Wind whispered through the long grass. Leaves rustled. Birds tweeted as they flitted through the branches. Kenny's shins felt like he'd dipped them in snow.

Looking out a window you would think it was warm outside, but it wasn't.

Spring was a season of lies.