The Luna had docked at the far end of Cloud Harbor, generally reserved for small, private ships. Few dock hands were working at that end of the deck. None which Skylar recognized. Yet as they made their way toward the port’s main terminal and offices, he saw more and more dock hands, many whom he knew. He suddenly felt glad for the hood that hid his face. For years he’d worked at the docks. It was as much home to him as any place. Yet now he felt a stranger to it, that he didn’t belong. The thrill and excitement the docks once gave him had vanished. They belonged to a different Skylar. One whose world and hopes were as small as Haladras itself. Something inside him yearned to be that Skylar, yet he knew it could never be so.
Still, he looked about him as much as he could and still appear discreet. He hoped to see Kindor. If he couldn’t speak to him, at least he could see that he was well.
They passed the main hangar. The doors were open and Skylar saw the Supernova, Captain Arturo’s convoy ship, inside. A spark of hope flickered at the sight of it. Captain Arturo must be on Haladras. The venerated captain might prove a vital ally in their cause. Then a sound reached Skylar’s ears which seemed to come from a dream and brought a smile to his lips.
Rasbus.
The iron-lunged harbor master barked out orders in rapid-fire succession to a few unfortunate dock hands. Skylar did not look up to see him. He feared to. What would Rasbus say to him? Rasbus had given Skylar a second chance. And then Skylar had vanished from off the planet. No doubt Rasbus felt Skylar had betrayed his trust.
With a degree of relief and sadness, Skylar climbed into a transport Endrick had hired, and watched as the port disappeared in a cloud of dust as they sped off into the desert.
To Skylar’s disappointment, the companions did not go to Kaladra—to his home in the Gorge.
“I want you out of sight, for the time being,” Krom had said. “If all goes well, every soul on Haladras will know you’re here before long. And you’ll wish you could hide beneath that cloak when they do.”
They went instead to Lasseter’s hidden dwelling place in the desert and began planning. There was still the question of how to rally the people of Haladras against the empire that remained to be answered.
“I fear,” said Lasseter, “that we cannot take this directly to Aberforce. For many years I’ve watched him. A just and wise leader he can be. But he is more a coward than he shows. He’ll not stand against Tarus. We need to find a way of calling an emergency council meeting without going directly to Aberforce.”
“I say we disguise Krom as Morvath,” said Endrick. “All we’d need to find is an evil black ship and a frightened minion or two.”
Krom said, ignoring Endrick’s comment, “Are you certain we could not persuade Aberforce? Even if we brought him Prince Korbyn?”
Lasseter shook his head. “Aberforce must remain unadvised as long as possible. For I fear, in the end, he will prove our enemy.”
“Can we not call a clandestine assemblage of this council you speak of?” said Krom.
“Possibly. But the Council members would cry treason if the viceroy were not present. And we would need messengers to send to each of the colonies. Which we don’t have. We need someone else, someone with power and influence here.”
It was then that Skylar suddenly remembered seeing the Supernova in the port’s hangar. That was the answer.
“Captain Arturo,” he said slowly.
Krom and Lasseter looked at him quizzically.
“He has as much influence as Aberforce himself, probably more,” continued Skylar. “We’ll have him call the Council together. The viceroy will not deny him.”
Krom looked from Skylar to Lasseter.
“Is this true? Can this captain help us?”
No answer escaped Lasseter’s mouth. But an intimation of a smile showed in his green eyes as he faintly nodded his head.
They counseled a few moments more, Lasseter and Skylar giving Krom suggestions on how to find the celebrated captain. Krom had decided that he would seek out Arturo alone, while the other companions remained in hiding. Secretly, Skylar wondered how Krom, a complete stranger to Arturo, planned to persuade the captain to help them. More likely than anything, Arturo would take Krom for a lunatic, an escapee from an asylum, and send for a doctor, or soldiers. Krom acted confident, however. Nor did Lasseter gainsay his old companion. Skylar insisted on going along.
“He might remember me, at least,” said Skylar. “I did help save his ship.”
Krom would hear none of it.
With no more preparation that that, Krom was gone, leaving the others with naught to do but wait and hope.
TWENTY-FIVE
THE COUNCIL HOUSE hummed with the anxious chatter of hundreds of voices. It reminded Skylar of the last time he’d been there with Kindor. A distant past it felt to him now. The scene was nearly identical to that one. The upper balconies brimmed with curious spectators and concerned citizens, all alive with conversations speculating the cause for the meeting. The lower seats gradually filled with the white-robed Council members. The only difference this time was that Skylar sat on the floor level, just below the first row of Council seats, across the center floor from the viceroy’s own chair.
How all this had happened so quickly Skylar did not know. Only the day before had Krom sought out Captain Arturo. Somehow he had won the captain’s confidence and support. By what magic art of speech, Skylar could not guess. Krom was obviously more that the rough exterior that met one’s eye. Astounding yet was the swiftness with which Arturo had acted, urging Aberforce with all haste to assemble the Council. And not a hint of the reason for the meeting did Arturo give him. Scarcely a day had passed since they had set their plan in motion.
Skylar shifted in his chair nervously. Krom had not told him what he intended to do, or what Arturo would say. Though he had a fairly good idea what it might be, he preferred not to think about it. “Be ready,” had been Krom’s only counsel.
The two men, Krom and Captain Arturo sat beside him, Krom on his left, Arturo on his right. Endrick and Lasseter were seated somewhere nearby, as well. Skylar’s thoughts were too preoccupied to worry about knowing exactly where.
He suddenly wondered if Kindor was in the hall. What would he think? Rasbus, too...and Rolander. Kendyl, even. His heart missed a beat. What would they all think? In that moment, he felt quite small and vulnerable.
The assemblage grew quiet and all silently rose to their feet. Skylar looked up and found that the viceroy had entered the hall. He walked forward with that same stately air. But Skylar thought he detected a smidgen of agitation in his eyes, like a man forced to do something he doesn’t want to do. The viceroy took his seat and motioned for everyone else to do likewise.
“I thank the Council for meeting again with no forewarning,” began Aberforce. “The Council was called at the behest of Captain Arturo. He has not even allowed me to glimpse into the topic of such urgency,” he continued, an edge of annoyance cutting his words. “So let us defer directly to him—Captain Arturo.”
Arturo rose to his feet and strode onto the center floor.
“Thank you, my lord,” said the captain. “You do me great honor. When last I spoke before you, I brought disturbing news for Haladras and the empire. Tonight, I bring you both hope and even graver tidings.”
A collective groan rose quietly from the congregation.
“Less than one month ago I stood before you and warned of the growing tyranny of our king. Many here outwardly deny it, including our own honorable viceroy. Yet only one who is dishonest with himself cannot see what is happening.”
“Captain Arturo!” Aberforce’s angry voice echoed through the hall. “If you have brought us here merely to raise rebellion among my people, I will not have it! Already your voice has stirred overzealous hearts to believe your disloyal doctrine. It’s time I put an end to it.”
“Then you sentence this people to the bondage of slavery, just as those on Quoryn and Fenorra have suffered,” cried Art
uro in reply.
Aberforce rose abruptly, his eyes blazing with anger.
“Enough! Your words are sufficient to bring down the wrath of the most merciful of kings upon us. Be gone from here.”
The viceroy shot out his arm, finger pointed for Arturo to leave. The captain’s stance faltered not a wit.
“I will not leave until I speak what the Council has a right to hear.”
“Guards!” cried Aberforce. “Guards!”
“You may try to stop my voice, but that will not stop the king’s soldiers from coming. It will not stop a new leader, a governor, from replacing you.”
“Guards, arrest this traitor.”
Two guards came rushing forward. Arturo quickly turned and faced the council.
“They are coming. No manner of peace talk or pacifism can stop them. I can prove they are coming.”
Even as he spoke these impassioned words, the guards seized him and started hauling him away. Skylar was stunned. He turned to Krom. They had to do something. Without Arturo their cause was lost. But Krom’s face showed no sign of alarm.
How can he just sit there?
Suddenly, one of the Council members rose.
“My lord, I petition to let Captain Arturo speak.”
Another promptly rose.
“I echo the petition.”
Then another...and another...until nearly the whole Council was on its feet, joined by the general assemblage, all clamoring, “Let him speak! Let him speak! Let him speak!”
Red with vexation, Aberforce waved his hands and shook his head in denial of their petition. Yet the more he did so, the louder they grew, till the sound became deafening. Before he knew it, Skylar found that he, too, had joined his voice with the others.
The guards, mystified by the tremendous uproar, halted midway to the exit and gave the viceroy a questioning glance. Aberforce looked as though he might explode. Despite his best efforts, however, he failed to silence the crowd. Realizing his defeat, he signaled for the guards to release Arturo. The entire hall erupted with cheers and applause.
When at last the hall grew still again, the viceroy, having regained some of his composure, spoke sharply to the captain.
“It would appear that I’ve been overruled by your fellow citizens. Pray, Arturo, that you do not lead this people into ruin.”
With that, he sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and furrowed his brow.
“My lord,” began Arturo calmly, “ruin can only come to this people if I do not speak. I said that I could prove that the king’s soldiers are coming to Haladras, perhaps even at our doorstep. Yes, I shall give you proof.
“Yesterday, I was visited by a man who I only knew by name. A man I believed to be dead these fourteen years. That man’s name is Sir Krometheus Phynx, First Knight to King Athylian”
Arturo paused, as a wave of hushed astonishment filled the hall. Skylar immediately turned to Krom. Krometheus? So that was his true name.
“I invite him, now, to come forward and recount for you what he recounted me.”
Krom sat still and silent for a moment before standing. When he did, a tangible feeling of reverence coursed through the hall. Krom walked forward, slowly, confidently. With a respectful bow of the head, Captain Arturo left the center floor and returned to his seat next to Skylar.
“Fourteen years have passed since Tarus assumed the throne,” began Krom. “Fourteen years since traitors plotted to have the royal family murdered.” Aberforce squirmed in his seat and clenched the armrests of his chair. “Fourteen years since Tarus began striking down his own knights. Fourteen years since I fled Ahlderon and went into hiding. Fourteen years I’ve guarded a secret that will shake the empire to its core. A secret to which, until four years ago, Tarus remained ignorant, and which now causes him to pale with fear. It haunts his every waking moment. His dreams become nightmares because of it. The secret is this: Prince Korbyn Ducädese lives.”
Krom paused.
The silence was suffocating. Skylar felt as if he would be sick. He didn’t want Krom to go on. He didn’t want his true identity revealed. There was no stopping it, though. That he knew.
Gradually the audience began to stir, to rouse from its trance, comprehension dawning. A councilman stood and spoke.
“And where is this lost prince? What proof have you that he is indeed the son of Athylian?”
Krom nodded slowly. “I was present when the scene of that perfidious act was investigated. The infant prince’s body was never found. Athylian’s man servant, too, was missing. It was I who persuaded all who were to report to Tarus that everyone had indeed been killed. Later, I followed the trail of a man and infant child. After months of searching, I found them. I found them here, on Haladras.”
The hall stirred with incredulity and wonder. But Krom continued before their voices grew loud.
“For fourteen years the son of Athylian has lived here among you, living like a commoner, and until a fortnight ago, knowing nothing of his true parentage.”
“Who is he?” came a shout from someone high in the hall.
“Where is he?” shouted another.
Soon a clamor of voices filled the hall. Aberforce rose to his feet and essayed to restore order. The people soon calmed. The viceroy asked Krom to continue, for he too showed interest in the story, despite his anger.
“His identity I shall reveal shortly,” continued Krom. Skylar felt as if truly he would be ill. He began to wish they had chosen to go to Allega after all.
“For some time, Tarus has secretly sought to find the prince. The strange insects of which you’ve heard numerous accounts were, in fact, machines created by the King’s chief minister himself to track down the prince. They found him here. They nearly trapped him and delivered him to their master. But he escaped and has since been fleeing Morvath.
“I have sworn to protect the prince, even at the cost of my life. I desired to take him to Allega, where asylum might be granted him by Lord Rowvan. For weeks we have fled. We have come from Fenorra, where all was almost lost; where Morvath himself managed to catch the prince long enough to speak with him, to make the prince fear for the welfare of Haladras. It is because of that interview that once we escaped and might have fled to Allega, the prince insisted we come here—to warn his people. I shall let him speak to you of what he heard. Prince Korbyn.”
Krom held out his extended hand toward Skylar, beckoning him to come forward. Time seemed to freeze. Only Skylar’s mind and racing heart continued to advance. He felt he couldn’t move. Then an unexpected flash of Grim’s face filled his mind’s eye. Grim’s eyes were fixed on his and seemed to repeat what Grim had told him when he was alive, ‘I will be your sword.’ The image vanished and images of everyone he cared for replace it. His mother, Lasseter, Kindor, Rasbus, Rolander...and it was enough.
Skylar slowly drew the hood back from his head, stood up, and strode to the center of the floor. A few gasps of recognition, mingled with murmured whispers, and the rustle of clothing as people leaned in for a closer look reached his ears. He paid it no heed. Krom incline his head to Skylar before bowing to the viceroy and striding back to his seat, leaving Skylar alone.
Skylar did not look up or about him. He didn’t need to. As palpable as the heat of a fire, he could feel their gazes fixed upon him, watching his every movement, scrutinizing him. The viceroy was performing the same exercise, one dark eyebrow slightly raised.
“You?” said the viceroy, with evident skepticism in his tone. “You are the lost prince?”
It was a question Skylar had never been asked. Hither to, others had always asserted his royal parentage for him. He hesitated at how to respond.
“I am Skylar Lancerwright of Kaladra,” he said. “Until recently that is all I knew. I have no official document, no special scar or brand on my skin that proves I am the prince. But those whom I trust with my life tell me I am. Morvath and his Trackers believe that I am. Yes, I am Skylar of Kaladra, and I am the son of King Athylian.”
The viceroy rocked back in his seat, while hushed exchanges passed hastily among the Council members.
“I see,” replied Aberforce after some mental deliberation. “And you claim to have some secret knowledge about the fate of Haladras? Some doom shall befall us?”
“Yes, my lord. From the mouth of Morvath.”
“And what did he tell you that the king has not shared with me and this noble council?”
The viceroy’s words were cold, yet Skylar replied, unperturbed.
“He means to come here with soldiers. He means to break Haladras.”
“And why would he do that, boy?” said the viceroy, not deigning to use Skylar’s proper title. “Why in the name of sanity would the king send soldiers here to harm our peaceful colony?”
Still undeterred, Skylar went on, his confidence growing with every doubt from Aberforce.
“Morvath said that word of civil unrest and sedition among our people had reached the king’s ears.”
“Sedition!” exclaimed the viceroy. “Captain Arturo’s tongue is the only thing here guilty of treason. Why would the king send troops instead of coming to me? I have the king’s full confidence.”
Murmurs of agreement echoed from the Council members. These Aberforce received with a proud smile. Skylar continued to stand his ground.
“Morvath wishes to intimidate me, to force me into joining the empire’s cause.”
“And what cause is that?”
“As Arturo has said: tyranny; to eliminate our liberties; to grow his power and control over his realm.”
Aberforce laughed derisively and leaned forward.
“I see Arturo’s been poisoning your mind.” Then he looked up and addressed the Council. “This boy is clearly delusional, brain-washed by stories from a few mad men.”
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