by Thomas Rath
True to the previous sections of the city, the road changed with the wall to one of great marble slabs perfectly placed to give the allusion of one single piece of stone as the road ran straight on to Calandra’s castle. The area surrounding the road was wooded but not like the thick forests that Thane was used to. These trees seemed too uniform in their location as if planted there with purpose. Great lawns, shrubs and flowers, small streams and grand fountains were visible from all around as they proceeded up the road. Large statues of white marble lined either side of the street and continued along the avenue. On closer inspection it became obvious that they were all carvings of the same person in different poses or actions. Thane figured they must be likenesses of the present king. Jne merely harrumphed in derision.
It was all excessive to a fault yet extremely beautiful at the same time. Occasionally, Jack let out a grunt as if in disgust reminding Thane why they were there and what was being sacrificed so that the king could live in such opulence. It was a stark contrast to the outskirts of the city and would, in a mere week be left in ruins.
As they continued toward the castle Thane caught site of a large mansion tucked away in the trees to his right and then another a little further up on the left. “Who are those for?” Domis asked.
Ranse didn’t turn around but answered with a clear tint of disdain in his voice. “My brothers and I do not live in the castle proper but have estates of our own where we reside.”
“Is one of those yours?” Teek asked.
Ranse shook his head but didn’t offer up anymore information so the subject was not forced.
It was then that the trees opened up for a full view of the main castle. It was enormous, like six of the mansions they’d just seen connected together with a myriad of towers jutting up from all different locations. Since they were approaching from the side, the full grandeur of the front was not visible but what they were able to see was beyond anything any, save Jack, and obviously Ranse and Jace, would have ever imagined. Walkways split off in every direction leading to more fountains and pools and private gardens with another splattering of statues proudly displayed on large stone blocks.
The castle itself had a white exterior with a light blue-gray roof and was six stories tall except for the towers, some rising up to at least twice that height. Some of the towers contained bridges or walkways to connect them with outside causeways and balconies that led to rooftop gardens and tucked away private areas. The whole structure suddenly gave Thane the feeling that Calandra’s king was trapped in a giant maze.
Ranse led the group up a small flight of stairs to one of the side doors. Though not a main entrance the door was made of thick wood beams belted with iron and was tucked away in a dome shaped alcove where a guard stood out of plain view. The guard looked to move to intercept them but upon seeing Ranse’s medallion merely stood at his post as if they were not even there. Ranse reached for the large ornate handle. Thane thought for sure he would need assistance pulling open the door but was surprised when it swung out with little effort at all.
“How will we find that king in such a large place?” Dor asked as they entered Calandra’s castle.
Pausing only briefly, Ranse spoke over his shoulder answering, “The king already knows we are here and will wait for us in the throne room. That is where he meets all who come for an audience. It is where he feels most powerful and in control. Do not expect a warm welcome.”
The prince led them on, past a small foyer and into a maze of rooms and hallways of differing sizes and lengths that confused even Jne as to which direction they were taking at any given time. Only Jack and Thane, and, of course, Ranse and Jace seemed unaffected by the seeming web-like route in which the prince led them as he pressed forward toward the throne room and their ultimate goal. Through the power of the TehChao Tane, Thane would be able to retrace their steps exactly if they needed to retreat and exit the massive palace, but Jack’s seeming comfort with their location was a mystery. It might have been the grim and determined look that had clouded his face since seeing Wess in the city that masked the true wonder that everyone else seemed to display. But for one whose life had been relegated to the open ranges of the Shadow Mountains, his demeanor seemed uncharacteristically comfortable in the confines of Calandra’s seat of power.
Every room, every hallway was spacious and grand to an extreme. The ceilings reached up to an extended height almost outreaching the light given off by the occasional window or the myriad of candles lined along the walls. The furnishings were extravagant down to the tiniest latch that appeared gilded in the purest gold. Plush rugs and the finest crafted furnishings filled in the spaces down the long hallways and through the many different rooms through which they passed. At first glance, the chairs might have been thought a resting place for anyone required to traverse the great expanse through the castle, but on closer examination it was clear that the furniture was not meant for comfort, or even use, but as a sign of wealth and power—of opulence and excess.
No one barred their way as they continued their trek deep into the bowels of the palace. Thane thought he caught a glimpse of a servant girl quickly ducking through a door as they approached but saw no sign of her when they passed the room into which he thought he saw her escape. It appeared as if they were completely alone to the point that it became eerie.
Prince Ranse suddenly stopped at a small, nondescript door just to the left of the hall down which they had been striding tucked back in a small alcove that would have been easily overlooked by any not searching for it. Pausing, he looked at the companions that gathered about him expectantly.
“As I said before, do not expect a warm greeting. To the king, it is likely we are viewed as the enemy in all of this, and certainly, any friend of mine is immediately mistrusted. We will do our best to talk reason to him, but I fear he will not hear us.”
No one offered a response. Jack looked like steal incarnate, his jaw locked, his teeth grinding audibly as he tried, without success, to control his anger and his breathing. Teek and Domis stood with wide eyes, anxious and nervous at the same moment realizing they were about to be in the presence of the king. The three Chufa seemed resolute, though Dor seemed to waver between resolve and trepidation. Colonel Braxton looked uncomfortable and though standing still, seemed to pace back and forth like a caged animal. Even Jace seemed to exude an inkling of nervous energy that only magnified the feelings the others were experiencing. Only Jne gave off an air of confidence that vacillated toward the edge of contempt.
Ranse opened the door revealing a cavernous hall that swallowed the group in its girth as they entered. A large domed ceiling constructed in a star burst of steal and glass radiated from the center and out to all sides allowing the sun’s rays to filter in and illuminate the entire area in soft light. A circle of massive pillars outlined the room creating a hallway of sorts that circumvented the inner court which was completely open. The floor was highly polished and decorated with scenes of war and conquest. To the far left was a grand stairway of marble leading up in a large half circle to the dais that held the king’s throne. Surprisingly, the throne was not large at all but instead afforded those forced to look up at it full view of the king making him the focal point with nothing to distract attention away.
The king wore silks of the finest make in a shimmering blue with a golden sash draped across his shoulder. He was a man of middle age who was not overly handsome and would most likely be described as plain. A large powdered quaff protruded from his head like a helmet and his face was covered in white powder with bright red painted on his cheeks and lips.
Though seated on the throne as a demonstration of his power and authority, it was the tall man next to him that dominated the room. Dressed in plain brown robes with the cowl pull up, covering his features, the man was ominous in his simplicity of dress, towering over the king, who, should he stand, would not have reached the other’s shoulder.
Halfway up the stairs, and to either side, were two oth
er chairs that were occupied as well by two men who could only be Ranse’s older brothers. They too wore the opulent clothing made fashionable by their father and king as well as the powdered wigs and painted faces that made them almost look like the women who filled the bottom steps of the stairway and who seemed to be pressing each other for advantage trying to capture the eye of either the king or one of his sons. It was as Ranse’s party entered the room that two women had been dismissed from either side of each prince and sent back with slight squabbles to the coop, as it were, of cooing women below.
Ranse led the companions across the expansive floor to the base of the stairs where the women, holding their noses in disgust, skirted away as if the prince and his friends carried the plague and would infect them all by mere proximity. Reaching the bottom stair, they spread to either side of the prince and followed his lead as he bowed and touched one knee to the floor. All remained in this position for what seemed an excessive amount of time before the king snorted in disgust as if he’d been presented with maggot filled bread and then commanded them to rise.
It was as Teek raised his head and stood with the others that the short, wiry form of a Waseeni boy came from around the back of the throne to stand next to the king, opposite the man in the brown robes. Teek gasped in shock at seeing one of his own still alive though obviously hurt, sporting a bandage that wrapped his left leg from the ankle to the knee. How was it possible that one of his people had survived the attack on their home and then beat him to Calandra? The impossibility of it was quickly overrun by the excitement and joy that welled up in him that he was not the only one of his race still alive. If this young Waseeni had survived, then it was certainly possible, even probable that there were others too who had escaped the fiery death that wiped out his people and his home.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” the king spoke, his voice dripping with disgust, his glare first searing into Colonel Braxton, who immediately looked down, before resting on his youngest son. “Especially in the face of your disobedience to my wishes and the fact that you sully my home with the likes of these,” he finished motioning toward the others.
“My lord,” Ranse answered, “you must hear me out.”
The king shot to his feet, his face red with anger. “You dare command me, your king and your father, in my own court and household!”
Ranse bowed his head as Jace almost imperceptivity moved his hand towards his belt. It was then that Thane noticed there were no guards in the room. Though unrehearsed in the rules of HuMan royalty, he found it odd that their extreme ruler would not have a guard posted for his protection. Even the battle hardened dwarf prince, Helgar, had a company of guards to defend him. “My lord,” Ranse tried again, “I do not intend to command you at all but only to alert you to the dangers…”
The king waved his hand and sat once again. “I know of the perceived dangers you speak of.” The other princes both snickered as if their brother were a fool for the courts enjoyment. “I have already sent an emissary to treat with Lord Bedler and his friends and have received word that a mutually beneficial agreement has been reached. They come to the city as we speak as a sign of friendship where they will bow to me and swear their allegiance.”
No one could believe what they were hearing though Thane recognized the appeals that Bedler or Zadok had used to almost draw him in as well. “But, my lord,” Ranse continued trying, “what of Haykon and its annihilation? What of the people that were butchered at this Lord Bedler’s command?”
The king stifled a yawn with one hand. “A simple misunderstanding,” he replied, looking at his finger nails. “Had there been a competent leader,” he suddenly spat, his mood vacillating erratically, as he shot a withering look at Colonel Braxton, “Haykon would still stand instead of its refuse clogging the outskirts of my city with their filth!” The king sat back and let out a sigh once again seeming in control of himself. “But,” his voice was steady, “what is done is done. A sacrifice for the greater good. Their deaths will prove the catalyst to a better life for us all.”
Neither Dor nor Jack could stand to listen to anymore of the king’s insanity and apathy for his own as both moved as if intending to scramble up the stairs. Thane grabbed Dor’s arm holding him back and flashing a warning look. Jack, though more restrained, did take a step forward mounting two steps before finally realizing where he was and stopping.
“Dagan!” Jack shouted, his anger taking over completely. “You pompous piece of royal dung. You are not fit to rule this people. You never have been. You have allowed your indecent, amoral, decadence to cloud your mind with what pleasures you while your kingdom is being systematically torn down around you!”
King Dagan’s face was red with rage that someone should speak to him in such a way, but it took him a moment to find his voice as the shock had completely overwhelmed him. Rising from his throne, he descended a couple of steps toward Jack as if in an open threat of physical harm.
“How dare you speak to the king in such a manner! I will have your head as a toy for my hounds for such insolence! You forget yourself, man.”
“No,” Jack raged, moving up the steps himself now as if eager to clasp his flexing hands around the king’s neck. Ranse’s brothers recoiled in obvious fear as the women suddenly bolted for the sides of the hall screaming in terror. Colonel Braxton, still sworn to protect his king, grabbed Jack’s arm before he got too far up the steps but that didn’t stop the raging mountain man from continuing his verbal barrage. “You forget yourself! You are no longer fit to rule this people in carelessness and self indulgence. You are no longer worthy of such a responsibility or station. You must be removed.”
King Dagan retreated at Jack’s lunge and now stood behind his throne as if keeping it between him and Jack would protect him. Neither the man in brown robes nor the Waseeni boy moved but merely watched and listened in amusement as if witnessing the squabbling of two squirrels fighting over a nut. “And who do you think will remove me?” he hissed. “What army do you own that you can bring to bear against me and those loyal to their king?” he laughed.
Jack paused for a moment, the anger suddenly giving way to an inward struggle that made him appear as if struck physically ill by the king’s words. The sudden change in his demeanor seemed to give the king courage and he moved to the front of the throne once more.
“You see,” the king spat. “You are nothing, and you will die for your impudent words to one so much higher and greater than yourself!”
Jack’s face still revealed the struggle that was obviously tormenting him as he stood dumb before the ranting king. Thane moved up the stairs beside his friend, followed closely by Jne, and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Jack turned to look at him and when their eyes met, the struggle suddenly seemed to dissipate into a decided victor. Turning back to the king, Jack reached into his shirt and pulled out a medallion that hung from a necklace around his neck. Teek recognized it immediately and reached for the one Twee had given him thinking that Jack must have taken it when he slept, but his was still tucked securely away in the pouch hidden in his loin cloth. It was identical to his.
“I have this,” Jack said finally, holding up the medallion. “I have the mark of the kings of old passed down from generation to generation as I received it from my father just as he had from his father. And in the face of your incompetence and ineptitude I, once again, declare myself the king and ruler of these lands reclaiming my birthright to do so as the lost king returning! I am Lord Kenden, rightful heir to the throne.”
Chapter Six
All eyes focused on Jack as the room suddenly fell into hushed silence. Even the chattering sounds from the women stopped as everyone seemed to take a deep breath. Dagan’s eyes were riveted to the amulet in Jack’s hand as it swung slightly from side to side, his face suddenly draining in color to pale. The brown robed figure turned and stared at the Waseeni boy who returned his questioning gaze as if communicating their own wonder without words. Thane and Dor trad
ed glances between each other and Tam with a mix of disbelief and wonder while Domis and Teek beamed with pride at the privilege of being attached to someone whose importance had just exploded in size. Ranse looked at his father and then back at Jack and the medallion he held, recognizing the symbol but uncertain whether to believe what Jack had just claimed. Jne seemed unaffected by the revelation and merely watched with a slight grin, waiting to see what would happen next, clearly hoping it would include a fight.
Braxton released his hold on Jack’s arm and took a step back, a strange look of relief and joy mixed in his countenance as he bent his knee and suddenly knelt before his old friend. “Upon my life…” he started.
Dagan took a step toward them. “What are you doing?” he said almost in a whisper.
“…I again pledge my service, my land…”
“Stop what you are doing,” Dagan squealed. “He is not the king. He’s a fraud.”
“…my posterity, and my sword, to uphold and protect your name and person…”
Dagan’s protests suddenly became a rage. “Stop what you are doing! Stop it this instant! He is not the king! I am the king! I am the one!”
“…though it require my very life to lay down in your defense…”
“STOP!”
“…I will give it and count myself blessed in the process. I am your man today and forever.” The colonel finished his oath and then stood, a broad smile filling his face. “Welcome back, my Lord Kenden.”
At the speaking of that name there was an audible gasp in the room. “It can’t be,” Dagan breathed. “Kenden died with his wife and child when the trolls attacked them.”