Spear and Shadow

PROLOGUE.

He crouched into a low stance over the unconscious form of his comander on the edge of Mount Balanor. The wound on his side bled and he staggered as a faceless enemy strode towards him. They swung their swords towards each other and.....

He woke with a start and knocked his tankard flying - straight into the face of an angry farmer. He sighed as he stood and reached into his pocket.
"My apologies. I know you must have had a long day of work"
The farmer slugged him and he fell against the table.
"I was going to give you money."
The farmer spat.
"I don't want your stinkin' money you damn highborn prick. I won't take your bribery."
He rolled his eyes.
"This isn't bribery. It's recompense."
The farmer hit him again and he glared.
"Please stop hitting me. I don't wanna fight. I want to get drunk."
The farmers friends surrounded him and his eyes widened as he reached for one of the many tankards that remained on his table.
"Well alright then. Seeing as you have a weapon and don't seem interested in reasoning, I'm just gonna have to kick your ass."
A few minutes later he was rolling on the cobbled street outside of the tavern whilst the farmers laughed and jeered. They slammed the door shut and he pushed himself to his feet.
"Bloody idiots."
The scar on his side twinged as he staggered through the streets of Mournvar. He needed to find a tavern or a bar. Somewhere with alcohol. He pulled out his old beat up hip flask and sighed when he found it was empty. The church bells tolled and he groaned as all the taverns closed for the night.
"Bloody typical."
He staggered back towards his fathers house. People began to stare at him as he walked through the poor district. People whispered until three people stood in his way.
"You're a wealthy man aren't you?"
He gave a weary smile.
"Fairly wealthy. But seeing as I'm surrounded by three of you, how about I share some of that wealth?"
They ignored his comment.
"Did you serve in the Angvangese war?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Yes. Yes I did."
They stared at him.
"I take it then that you're all Angvangese?"
They nodded and he groaned.
"Alright. What do you want? Money? To beat me to a pulp and then take my money?"
They held out their hands and he nodded as he passed his coin purse to them.
"Is that enough for you?"
They nodded and walked away. He sighed and ket walking. A few minutes later he walked through the door of his house to see his father sitting on the stairs, looking not at all impressed. He was a tall man, with brown hair and brown eyes, similar to his own.
"What time do you call this?"
He stretched and shrugged.
"I'm not sure. I'm guessing it's late though."
"It's two o'clock in the morning."
He grinned.
"Well that's early then."
His father pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"How long are you going to traipse around Mournvar treating it like your own playground?"
"If by playground, you mean tavern, and by traipse you mean drink, then I have no intention of slowing down."
"This is the capital Arvin. The Kings back garden. Do you know how bad it would look for our family if he sees you drinking yourself to an early grave?"
He nodded.
"I do know. That's why I drink so much. So I can get into said grave sooner, and hope he doesn't see me."
His father shook his head and stood up.
"The king is coming back from Angvang peace talks tomorrow and I want us to be at the greeting ceremony. Please make an effort."
He nodded as he walked up the stairs and towards his room.
"And where do you think you're going?"
He sighed as his sister poked her head round her door frame, her dark brown hair tied back.
"Hello Mari. I was going to bed."
She shook her head.
"No no. I need to check how your wound is doing."
He groaned and leaned against the banister.
"Why? I got back from the war six months ago so it's all but healed."
She glared and he rolled his eyes as he lifted his shirt. She peered at the scar.
"Does it cause you any great discomfort?"
"Only when I get tossed out of a tavern."
"Does the rest of you hurt when that happens?"
"Yes."
"Then you should be fine. How does it feel to move around?"
"It hurts when I move my left arm but I ignore it."
She sighed.
"Arvin, you got stabbed. You need to let the inner injury heal before you move around."
He narrowed his eyes.
"It's had six months."
"No. You've been drinking for six months and getting in bar fights. It's not going to heal like that."
He nodded as he lowered his shirt and crossed his arms.
"Fine. Did father tell you about tomorrows exciting plans?"
She nodded.
"Yeah. We're going to be at the Arrival ceremony and then the King is having dinner around here."
He gave a wary smile.
"Uh, what?"
"Yeah the King is a guest of honor."
He clamped his hands over his eyes.
"By the gods. Why?"
She shrugged.
"Y'know how father's been since mother died. Ever trying to raise our social standing."
He moaned as he trudged to his room.
"Yeah, but talking to the king for anytime is just...... painful."
She nodded.
"I know. Just try to endure it."
He gave a mock salute and fell against his door. The door swung open and he hit the ground face first.
"How drunk are you?"
He yawned and curled into a ball.
"Very."
She snorted.
"Surprisingly normal conversation then."
He nodded as he drifted of to sleep.