The Orb of Wrath

by Nic Weissman

It was a cold, gray afternoon in Ekunon. Although it was not raining, the sky was overcast over the big city. Thost dismounted from his horse and tied the reins to the support at the entrance of the building. After that, he went inside. It was the building of the departmental delegation of Administrative Services of the Central Bor County. Thost had to submit some documents and pay the taxes for the quarter.

  Upon reaching the main hall, he saw that there were quite a few people and only two county officials to assist them. He snorted, resigned; he'd have to spend the rest of the afternoon there. He asked who the last person was. A woman who had a live chicken seized by its legs raised her hand. His turn was next.

  There were no seats left so he had to remain standing in a corner. It was a room about twenty steps long with three huge windows overlooking the street. Horsemen and pedestrians were passing incessantly in the hustle of the afternoon. Thost stopped to watch the street scene for a while. No sound could be heard through the thick panes.

  A very old man rose from his chair in the waiting area, to go sit at the table in front of the first officer. The man who preceded him had finished making his arrangements and was leaving. Thost took the opportunity to sit in the place that the old man had vacated. To his left was a boy no older than eighteen, with red hair and many freckles. He wore pants with suspenders that were clearly too short, and that were pretty worn out from use. To his right was a very serious lady in her fifties, who was fully dressed in black. “A widow”, he thought.

  After waiting for over half an hour, Thost began to remember how he had gotten there. A few years ago he lived in a palace, had hundreds of servants, ran a county with professionalism and intelligence, and had the appreciation of most of his subjects. As a count, he managed a huge budget and tried to do it reasonably with good planning for the well-being of the territory. A few thousand militia soldiers followed his orders, apart from the Royal Army unit, which was established there. He had a huge amount of land that his vassals tilled and a fishing fleet. Also, he had good friends in all areas: the Army, the other counties and the Central Administration. At least that's what he had believed.

  But everything changed radically in an intense, crazy and embarrassing month of April. The accusation had come suddenly, taking him by complete surprise. Conspiracy against the Crown! How could they dare to commit such slander? He, who had always defended the Crown and had so often prefixed the Kingdom interests before the ones of his county!

  The process had happened abnormally fast. He did not have many options to defend himself. Now, with hindsight, he understood that various de facto powers had had to align to make things happen as they did. The King was traveling, and only had access to him at the end of the process when the committee had already decided. He had hoped to have the support of the counts of Bor, Norvik and Terentias. But only Norvik count defended him openly. The Bor count was involved at that time in a small scandal, and the Terentias count had accumulated too much debt, especially with the Industrial Association. Neither was at his best, or in a position of strength, and did not want to risk it by defending him. As permanent members of the Committee, their voices were very important. It would have been almost impossible for such a drastic decision like that to have gone ahead with three counts against it, even if the other four, and most of the other members, were in favor. But with only the support of one count, and a surprisingly belligerent atmosphere against him, he had no chance.

  The evidence presented had been incredible. It was as if someone had been accumulating a dossier and documenting all errors at a detailed level for years. Then, presenting it all together mixed with some very serious lies, and linking it in a somewhat bizarre way, had filed a case against him which looked solid.

  But the last straw had been that letter. A love letter to the Queen with his handwriting! Only that it was not for the Queen! He was courting at the time a lady called Aredelind. His wife had died shortly after the birth of his son many years ago and, after a long period of mourning, he had had multiple partners. It was perfectly legitimate for a widower as he to woo a marriageable maiden. Actually, he had been looking for someone who could fill the huge gap that Abremine had left, without success. The fact is that chance determined that the last of his conquests had the same name as the Queen. Then, somehow, his enemies seized the letter and added a royal stamp, as if it had been addressed to the Queen herself.

  All the experts authenticated his handwriting. And when he spoke of the maid, her trail had disappeared. No one was able to find her. And even in the hacienda where he visited her a few times, they said a woman with that description had never stayed there. It had been a nightmare.

  As a result of this, he lost his home and his wealth, he was banished from his land and could never return to it, and lost his title. But what hurt him most was losing his name. The Oroden house had directed the Borydos County for twenty generations, and with him, that legacy had disappeared. He and his family had lost the right to use “Oroden” in their documents and thereby the rights to a name; in the kingdom of Bor only the nobility, and a few men, were entitled to have it. He only hoped that his son could forgive him for such grievance.

  If it could only be corrected! Clearing and recovering his name someday for himself and his family was his ultimate ambition, his only ambition. But this goal seemed extremely complicated. He believed, however, that with time, effort and tenacity, it was possible.

  The first thing he needed was money, a lot of money. Many of his enemies were still in their positions of privilege. And now he understood that more than one had been able to use the money to buy willpower, twist opinions and conspire. Money could also buy the favor of support to help him in this battle. Secondly, he needed to get his own dossiers with the skeletons in the closet that his enemies might have. This would allow him to neutralize their action when the time came. That is, the same tactics that were used against him. He had no doubt that it would be possible to document the abuses of the bastards, but he needed, again, money and time. The third thing would be to build a review of his case that might overturn the conviction. But he would need to hire good lawyers, collect evidence, find that woman and get her to do an affidavit. Finally, he'd need the opportunity to do a great service to the kingdom of Bor, which the King could not ignore. This way, he could reclaim the review of his case. But he could only get to that point when he was prepared.

  For a man in his present situation, there was only one way to get large sums of money: the adventures. It was a very romantic and attractive idea, but the reality is that practically no adventurer was successful enough to get rich. But it was possible and Thost had met a knight who had accomplished it. Besides, he still had a couple of supports that would surely willingly accompany him.

  His son Ithelas was investigating ancient writings, seeking clues that might lead them to a lost treasure. He had been attempting to gather contacts that could put him in communication with contractors: people that carried out certain assignments for adventurers for a certain amount of gold. Though they had done some homework, so far they had not gotten any work of real importance. But he would not give up so easily.

  While he was deep in thought, three people had been attended. Two men, who were chatting, entered the room at that time and went to the benches to take a seat. One of them approached Thost and with a curt nod indicated him to move to the left, probably because that way the two men would have enough room to sit together.

  No one in that room could even imagine that he was ever a count. Thost, who always had been received everywhere as an Excellency, now had to hide his past. It had been a condition to be able to reside in Bor County: no public notoriety and go unnoticed in the city. And even he could consider himself lucky; some in the trial had asked for a sentence of death by hanging, leading the charge to high treason.

  The man who had just entered and sat to his right stank considerably. He probably hadn't showered in about a month. Although the red-haired boy on his left didn't smell
much better. He stood up and walked to the windows to watch the street again.

  The front building was an amphorae factory. A large gate stood in the middle of the facade and had many carts coming in and out constantly. The wagons went out loaded high with ceramics of all types and colors: small and medium vases, dishes, pots and, of course, amphorae. Ceramics was one of the main activities of the city and County, and the goods were exported throughout the Kingdom and even to other countries. McMica was the company that controlled the production of these goods in the city. It was a company that had flourished throughout the entire Kingdom.

  The city also had a distinguished guild of goldsmiths who concentrated on the Walk of Gem, in the commercial area of ​​the city. There you could find jewelry of all kinds, as well as precious stones. Knowing how to choose the day and time could get you some good bargains. Thost had been there many times, when money allowed him to be a regular customer of the guild. But now those days seemed far away.

  He had to wait for nearly two hours until finally it was his turn. At that time three or four people who came after him ended up being attended before him. Those born in the County had priority in administrative proceedings, and he was born in another county, obviously.

  Finally, one of the officials motioned to him.

  “What do you want?” he asked without even looking at him.