The Other King by Steven D. Brewer

"Well," said the Captain. "I guess it's time to go talk to the King." He opened his desk drawer, pulled out a bottle, and tucked it into his cloak.

"The King?" asked the Hero.

The Captain motioned and led the Hero across town.

"Isn't the castle that way?" the Hero asked.

"This way is shorter," the Captain said, leading him into a warren of narrow alleyways.

They eventually arrived in a dark space among the back side of buildings where the alleyways converged.

Pallets and crates were stacked up among garbage cans and piles of trash. Amongst them, a shadowy, unshaven figure reclined. He wore a boot on his head.

The figure emitted a wracking cough, then spoke in a booming voice. "Who soever approacheth the King?"

"Please accept the Captain and the Hero into your august presence, Your Majesty," said the Captain, bowing.

"Ha-hmm," the man said. "And did you bring a tribute?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Captain said, retrieving the bottle from inside his cloak with a flourish. It was a large, clear, unlabeled bottle, crudely corked, containing a transparent liquid. "I offer you this rare brandy."

The man motioned and the Captain approached and handed him the bottle. He accepted the bottle, quickly uncorked it, and took a swig.

"Ah!" he said with pleasure, wiping his mouth with the back of a filthy hand. "A fine year!"