Move for the Crown

James set his leg gingerly on the floor. His whole body was still shaking from the dream that he had. His body was covered in sweat. He could pick on the sounds of the tins outside. His uncle was already setting the shop up.

"The old man never rests," he murmured to himself.

His uncle was Daniel Taylor. The only man that sold tins in the small town that they lived in. He was the only man that James knew to love him. Hell, he was the only family that James had. His wife died when James was five and he had refused to get married ever since. He dedicated himself to taking care of James. And even if James never said it, he was grateful.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He was about to curse the weather when his eyes met the leaking roof. He couldn't have been more grateful for the summer. He ran his hands through the standing fan that had broken over a year ago. He and his uncle couldn't sacrifice the food for their dinner just because they wanted to cool off.

He walked with unsteady feet to the kitchen, checking if he could get even the last grains of rice in the pot. There was nothing. He bit his lip till it bled. His hands were itching to take some of the money that his uncle had kept under his bed but he knew that was forbidden. He had no idea why his uncle was saving the money, but he knew it was for important reasons.

He was about to scream his uncle's name when he heard some whistling outside. That urged him to keep quiet. His uncle never whistled. He tip-toed to the door to the store, peeping at what was going on. He saw his uncle move back and slam into tins.

"Where's my money old man?" the man who was whistling asked. He was putting on cowboy boots with a matching cowboy hat. His clear blue eyes were shining from where James stood.

"I told you that I will repay you next month," Daniel begged with his hands folded in front of him.

"You seem to be making a whole lot of sales these days," the man in the cowboy boot sneered. "After all, almost all the housewives in town are baking cakes nowadays. It's the summer."

"Please," Daniel begged once more. This isn't what we agreed on."

The man cocked his head to one side. That seemed like the sign for the men behind him to charge forward and attack Daniel.

James burst into the room immediately, stopping them in their tracks. They looked frightened for a while before taking in the skinny young man in a blue shirt with holes in it. They burst into laughter immediately.

"Is this James?" the man in the boots asked Daniel, pointing at James.

James frowned immediately. How did the man know him? Only customers had ever seen his face. Daniel had forbidden him from going outside and assigned him to only washing and drying the tins.

Daniel didn't answer and looked away instead. One of the men kicked Daniel in the stomach, making him howl in pain and crouching on the floor.

"I'm James," James blurted out immediately.

The man in the boots nodded, walking towards him. "I'm Francis," he said, holding out a hand that James didn't take. He looked pained but continued speaking.

"Daniel had gone round town when you first got here. He said you were a great child and you were going to make him proud. He knew that you were both outcasts here but he still decided to bring you here, pretending to live a peaceful life with you. Like you wouldn't grow. Like you wouldn't know the slum you both came from."

"He owns so much more than you can ever imagine," Daniel spat again, earning another kick in the stomach.

James' feet were stuck to the floor. What was his uncle talking about? There was no way that he had enough money. Was that why his uncle was saving money?

Francis was nose to nose with James now.

"Now, give me the money your uncle owes me. Or else, I will be taking both the shop and the house." He took out a knife from his pocket and placed it directly on James' throat.

James kept an expressionless face while keeping one eye on his uncle, who watched him from the floor, slowly shaking his head. James didn't listen, as he snatched the knife from Francis, twisted his arm and flung the knife across the room.

Francis laughed, whistling and his men charged at James, all throwing blows that didn't even land on his face. James grabbed the back of one's head and smashed it on the table, leaving blood all over the place. Another one charged at him, making James twist his ankle till he heard the bone crack and the man cried out in pain.

Francis whistled again, calling for more men. The men all approached him with screams. James took it all calmly, as he sent them flying across the room, crying in pain, damaging furniture and splattering blood around the whole place. Francis whistled one more time but no man took a step forward anymore.

James let out a small grin as he cocked his head to the side, waiting for Francis himself to attack him. Francis slowly stepped back before running away with his men, screaming that they would be back.

James expected a pat on the back from his uncle. The only thing he saw was anger. And just as he had expected, a slap met his cheeks.

"You never know when to react. All you do is action without brains." His uncle spat. James couldn't even understand why his uncle was acting like that. He had helped to ward Francis and his men away for a while right?

The only thing James wanted answers to was what Francis was talking about and why his uncle borrowed money in the first place. He didn't remember the last time they had a decent meal.

"Stupid child," he heard Daniel mutter as he rushed into the room. James sluggishly followed him.

"Why are you getting so worked up? And what are you looking for? I can help you find it."

His uncle hissed as he continued his search. James watched him as he bought a key out of his pocket. Daniel raised the carpet up and unlocked a secret door underground. James took a step back in disbelief.

"Do not come after me," his uncle warned, raising a finger at him. James stayed obediently, while he waited. He couldn't figure out if his uncle was going to leave him there to face Francis alone the next time that they came.

Only a few minutes later, his uncle came back out, with a grim expression on his face. He had a bag in hand.

"What's in it?" James asked, earning no response from the older man.

"We need to leave," Daniel continuously muttered, as he moved around the room, packing James' things in a bag. James noticed that Daniel didn't pack any of his own things.

"We're not leaving," James said, making up his own mind. "Francis had done enough in this town. Someone needs to teach him a lesson."

"Someone does," his uncle agreed. "But that person isn't you!" Daniel finally zipped the bag and practically pushed James out of the room. When he saw that James was moving too slowly, he slapped his back, making James walk faster.

A thousand and one questions were running through James' mind. He had so many things to ask this man. Was he even really his uncle?

Daniel led him to the Bus stop and they both boarded a bus. Daniel had let him have the window seat as he had practically never seen outside their own small town. He even schooled there so he was just seeing the outside world for the first time.

On a normal day, he would have been excited. But he had too many things on his mind to even feel the wind that was whipping their face as the bus drove away from the town that he knew as home.

The bus finally stopped at a larger city that had tall buildings at almost every corner. Daniel moved further, not even wanting any questions from the boy. James followed slowly, taking note of his uncle's tense shoulders.

They finally stopped at a beautiful mansion with a huge white gate. His uncle ran his hands through the rails of the gate as if it reminded him of something.

"Are we going to work as helps here?" James asked in a tiny voice.

His friends in high school had always told him that he would end up there. Once again, his uncle didn't answer.

His uncle gently rang the doorbell and stood back, waiting.