As expected NaNoWriMo is soaking up most of my time at the moment and so this week’s flash is from the backstory of my project. I won’t say more than that for fear of jinxing myself into stopping.

Hakon’s Folly
By Neil Beynon

The body lay on the stone floor, face cast in shock and pain, eyes looking up at the ceiling even as all the eyes of the court lingered on the body’s ruined chest. The king sat heavily on the steps by the throne, his legs rubbery and uncertain.

“That’s not simply a warrior,” said the vizier, his face ashen. “That’s…”
“That’s my son,” said the king. “That’s my boy you’ve stretched out, oh gods what have I done?”

The Necromancer remained on his knees just behind the body, his bald head shining in the harsh light of the courtroom. If he felt any emotion he did not show it on his hook-nosed face.

“How did it happen?” asked the king, his face lined and pitted like dried leather.
“It was a snow beast sire,” said the Necromancer. “Hakon wanted to come back with three pelts for you to show his devotion and skill, he had already killed two when I found him but alas the third came on us while were in camp.”

“Foolish boy,” said the king before throwing his head back, a huge bellowing wail emanating from deep within his chest – the death cry of the Northron. “My boy, my son, dead. My line ends with him.” The Necromancer looked on from his knees, his face unreadable.

“Tell me what you did with the creature that bested my son?” asked the king.
“I killed it,” said the Necromancer. “The head was given to your guard.” The vizier nodded his confirmation to the king.

“Good, now tell me Necromancer what I can do for you in return for rescuing my son’s body?” asked the king.
“I would not presume to…”
“Nonsense,” said the king. “Anything that is mine to give you may have. I will not have it said that the Northron are ungrateful.”

The Necromancer began to speak.

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