Legacy's Prince

Chapter Forty-Three: The Mob

I flip through the pages, trying to make sense of the book I trudge back to the boats. I grumble as I snap it shut and stuff it into my cloak. I can already tell that it's not Melanese, so no hope that Dezden can translate it. I don't know what language it's written in! I wonder if Feiya might know? But I'd have to let her in on my little dragon secret to get her help and too many people already know about it.

"Hello there, handsome," I break out of my thoughts to soo one of the ladies of the night starts approaching me. I quickly change the direction of my path to try and avoid her. I don't look to see which direction I've changed to, though, and collide right into someone.

"Sorry," I mutter as I try to continue on my way, only to have a strong hand grabs my shoulder.

"Oi!" I look back and find a tall and rather buff elf standing behind me.

"Ain't you the prince of Durcardi?" he asks, voice reeking of alcohol.

"No," I answer quickly, pulling my hood over my face as I try to go along my way, but he stops me again.

This is not good!

"Ye are, though," he huffs. "Ye got the scars on your face to prove it!"

"No I don't," I pull my hood further over my face to try and hide my face as his grip tightens around me.

"Oi, mates! It's the Durcardian Prince, here in the flesh!"

Before I can even react an entire crowd of equally drunk, unpleasant looking ruffians surround me. They all are littered scars from previous fights, show that they are not to be trifled with.

"Well, well, well, someone thinks highly of himself, doesn't he?" a giant man coughs at me.

"Ye got some nerve coming out here after what yer father just did," the first elf calls.

I blink. "My father just did?"

"Are ye really stupid enough to think we'd be so enamored of yer greatness we wouldn't be bothered by ye occupying our lands and stealing our goods for another 12 years or so?" A dwarf asks.

I blink again. "What?"

"Ye humans, think you just own everything dontcha?  Well, ye don't," A fairy with one eye pokes me in the chest. "So, what are we goin' ta do with the twat, boys?"

Another giant grabs me by both arms at the elbows and stretches them out, lifting me just high enough that my feet can't touch the ground. I shout, kick, struggle, trying to get away, but it's useless. The entire crowd chuckles menacingly as they draw closer.

"L-l-l-look, gentlemen, this, this, th-this is a mistake," I stutter. "I-I-I-I'm not the prince. Why would the prince be out here at this-"

"Shut it!" the elf who had started the confrontation snaps, slapping me across the face.

Stars blur my vision. I squint to try and clear my sight only to find the elf then smiling menacingly at me.

"Yes, what to do indeed?"

"Well, killing one son didn't get the message across," the fairy spits as he waddles forward and pulls out a dagger, pointing it at my throat. "Maybe a second will do the trick."

"Ah, ah! You don't want to do that," I stutter, choking fear.

"And why not?"

"First, I promise I'm not the prince, and secon-"

He pricks my neck with the tip of the dagger. A hot trickle of blood runs down my throat. I swallow, trying to stop the trembling throughout my body as I continue.