Page 6 of The Hollow King

“Three foods. Three foods. Three foods. Three foods,” he said, beginning to repeat the same words.

His mind was either limited to a simple thought process due to deformity or this was the creature’s natural state.

He began to gather everything up and right before my eyes he moved to the corner of my cell, into the shadows, and vanished. I raised my head and waited but everything was quiet and still beneath the flickering glow of the oil lamp.

I closed my eyes and prayed that the gods of old would grant me courage when I faced death.

✛ ✛ ✛

I heard his boots scraping against the floor. He had returned with food. The bowl had kasha, meat and mashed turnips. Three foods.

I sat up and looked at the bowl. He stepped back. Once then twice.

“Borin bring foods.”

I glanced up and his one good eye was focused on me. I raised my bound hands in the air, hoping he would untie me since the cell door was not locked.

He tilted his head as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Borin feed sacrifice,” he muttered, shuffling closer.

“Thank you, Borin,” I said, smiling wryly. I felt safer using my voice with this creature than with my own kind.

His hand froze on the spoon and his one eye glared at me in suspicion. It made me wonder how monstrous the old king truly was. I’d heard the rumours. The way his claws were sharper than a butcher’s knife or how he could tear a man’s limbs off his body with his strength.

I ate what he fed me while I considered King Varga—the hollow king.

Could it be true? Did tragedy create the void in him?

There were too many stories about him over the years. I could not understand why I felt the need to know more about my executioner. The villagers feared him and in a strange way, revered him.

“Is the Master good to Borin?” I asked in between a spoonful of food.

“Borin is good,” he snapped before he began to mutter words that were incomprehensible.

The bowl was soon empty and he stood up.

“Master will have good blood now,” he whispered before he backed away from me. I blinked and he was gone.

I stared at the grey stone that surrounded me. Felt the scar that made me want to scratch. I could understand the empty void within. My final task on this earth would be to feed a monster.

My skull placed among the rest as a warning to all.

I allowed myself the luxury of a tear. I hardly felt it as it travelled down my cheek. After some time with my morbid thoughts, I curled into myself on the dirty floor and it wasn’t long until I heard Borin muttering to himself while he laid a blanket on top of me.

✛ ✛ ✛

When I awakened, it was to the sound of metal and Borin talking to himself. I opened my eyes to metal chains. I blinked when I saw the iron cuffs.

“Is it morning?” I croaked.

“Yes,” he said, reaching for my wrists.

It was the tenth month and I had six days left until the end of this month. Six days before I died. My breath shuddered even as I held my hands out for him to untie the rope.

“Master said you walk in castle,” he muttered as I sat up.

This was unexpected.