Heimarl stared wide eyed at the mage who had dared to out-speak the King. Indeed Alfred must be having an off day to allow this mage to interrupt in such a manner.
‘You see, my er, your majesty,’ the mage stuttered, only just beginning to realise what a dangerous path he was treading. ‘Hmm, er, well yes. The blood of the dumla beetling weakens as it enters its mating period. The vamplin population ever increases, while their natural food line struggles to continue to sustain such demands. As you know, the dumlas are huge creatures but they breed very slowly because of their size. Every ten suncircles they enter their breeding period and produce thousands of young. Soon the vamplins will go to the mid-mountains of Madzren to feed upon the white bear, whilst the dumlas mate. Is this not a great discovery? Considering that we cannot even enter the Dark Lands, yet we cleverly manage to learn of the behaviour of creatures at the other side of the world. My apprentices have discovered scrolls written by the Ancient Mage that explain some of the habits of the vamplins.’
The rambling mage instantly took his seat once he had managed to roll the words from his guilty tongue. Surely, this news was relevant to the discussion.
‘That was an enlightening tale but there is more pressing news, if I may be allowed to continue?’ The King asked of the chattering mage in a tone that indicated he would not endure another interruption. There was a tiny trace of evidence of the old familiar ruler: somewhere an echo of his former power was attempting to shine through.
Returning to his own speech he once again began to explain the dragon’s suspicions.‘We suspect that the vamplins were returning from a visit with the monshaad Emperor.’ Glowering at the mages with knitted brows and a ruddy nose, he truly was gaining strength from this meeting. ‘A conversation was overheard that indicates they seek to break the Wall and battle with the creatures of the Light Lands.
Mumblings of disbelief filled the room.
The mages questioned the validity of such a declaration. The mumbling ceased when Heimarl stood up and spoke, the noisy reaction of the mages had pushed the King back to his silent world.
‘Whenever the creatures of the Dark unite it is an uneasy predicament for us,’ the Head Mage assessed. ‘Presently, they cannot penetrate our barrier, but that may not be for all of time. We must seek the truth of their intentions. Are we in agreement?’
‘Alfred, my old friend,’ Eldis the High Mage of Weather stood to take the floor. ‘The members of the King’s Council have advised you well throughout your reign. Like my colleagues here, I too have reservations over the dragon’s possible misunderstanding. Our Magic Wall is impenetrable. I do not understand this panic of fear. Also, with all due respect to Head Mage Jhude and his tale of the beetlings, the lack of food for the vamplins is of no consequence to us. They can eat each other for all we care. Eldis was a balding, rather large character with a kindly heart as large as his stature. He was well respected as an intellectual and professional of his speciality.
The other mages nodded agreement. Why should they be concerned over the incidentals of the Dark Side?
Prince Amos frowned at their ignorance and when he stood to address the assembly, Eldis respectfully sat back in his seat, giving up the floor to the future King in the hope that he may have more sense than his ageing father.
‘My father has great insight and I find myself surprised at your lack of concern,’ Amos would not allow these scholars to ignore his fathers warnings. ‘The Dark Lands contain unpredictable creatures and yes, we are guarded by the powerful Guardian Dragons and yes, we are confident of the Magic Wall but, we should never turn our backs upon our enemies.’
I am a trained but untested soldier,’ he had their attention now. ‘My mind has been trained to never trust any creature, not even our own allies. I remain untested because we have lived in peace for so long that we have become unaccustomed to war. We have become too complacent.’
I say we seek intelligence of what is rumbling in the politics of the Dark World.’ Amos confidently supported his father’s wisdom. He looked at his father’s drooping eyes. Once, his father would never have allowed even a High Mage to interrupt him when in speech. Not because he would not have listened to reason and advice but more that he had been strong in his resolve. Now, his father’s people must rely on their King’s son to support their King’s decisions to protect them. ‘There must be a calling of the Lightland Council from all of the divided realms,’ he declared. ‘Only this unified Council can bring the strength we will need if we are to battle with the creatures of the Dark Lands. It is for all the creatures of the Light Lands to decide the fate of this potential uprising.’
The mages stirred almost into an uproar. This young upstart had no right to suggest that the magic of humans could not deal with this problem alone.
‘We cannot ignore the advice of the Guardian Dragons,’ the King’s wits were suddenly lively. Was it the lack of enthusiasm from the mages or was it the support from his son, which had pushed him back into reality? The King did not stand up, but Amos took to his seat to allow his father to speak.
‘They risk life and limb every time they pass through the Wall to watch over our lands. They have heard rumblings of a battle. Is this not enough to make you stir?’
Silence fell across the room. The assembly of wise old men looked upon their leader the Head Mage to answer on their behalf. They were in no mood to deal with an irrational King. He was known to always seek the bleak side of any situation, and they would not allow his low spirits to create panic among the citizens of Beldroth. Heimarl remained motionless and quiet. He watched as Prince Amos led the assembly, secretly relieved that this young man had managed to tackle this emergency and acted upon his instincts, using the leadership skills he had been taught. Prince Amos had his full support but he must embrace the King’s Council alone and gain the confidence of its members.
Chapter 28 The Heir
Prince Amos once again stood, noticing that the King was not winning this battle. He alone confronted the powerful gathering of mages.
‘You question your King?’ He stared into the eyes of each individual, daring resilience. ‘If you will not listen to the wisdom of your King then at least consider the words of a Queen. The dragon Queen asks that we be made aware of the stirrings within the Dark Lands. This, my father conveys to you. Yet you question such information.’
I will call the Lightland Council to unite in the Royal City of Beldroth. This I will see to personally. They will participate in this news and help us to decide upon the actions to be taken. Fear not your Prince’s words, for I assure you, I will not be ignoring the advice of my King.’
Prince Amos looked upon the King’s Council with bated breath. His eyes widened in anticipation of any further objections. He readied himself to defend his decision. But no, no objections came forth. He calmly sat down in his seat next to his King. He took up his mug of ale and thirstily downed the liquid. The cooling sensation on his throat was refreshing. Looking to his father, he did not move his stature. Determined that his family would remain the Ruling Family of Beldroth, he had confidently faced his first King’s Council. Aware that the Head Mage was equal to the King, he did not dare to look into the eyes of Heimarl.
As the murmur of heated debate was instigated amongst the members, the Head Mage smiled to himself. Prince Amos was a replica of his father from his younger days. If only he could let Amos know of how proud he was of him at that exact moment. Yet this was his father’s privilege and not his. This young man will make a fine leader, of this he was confident. Unknown to the young Prince, Heimarl would never have ignored the words of his friend Queen Thimat. He had merely tried to encourage the Prince to lead the way. Lo and behold, it had worked. Amos was quick to take up the commanding role. It was better that all believed their future King had made this decision, alone. The result was the same in the end.
All the leaders of all the different creatures that dwelled within the Light Lands realms, would now be called to the Royal Ci
ty of Beldroth for the very rare meeting of the Lightlands Council. Bad times lay ahead. All needed to know and all needed to prepare.
‘You are correct Prince Amos,’ Heimarl stood up to acknowledge the ruling of the Prince. ‘We should call all the creatures of the Lightlands Council. How can we but serve to ensure this feat is accomplished?’
‘You cannot assist Head Mage,’ the Prince was absolute in his decision. ‘My brother and I will travel the Light Lands, preferably alone and unnoticed. We will spread word of this impending threat and invite our neighbours and allies to attend the united Lightlands Council, so we can all agree on the best way forward.’
This was more than Heimarl had hoped for, not just one royal family member but two were to bring together the Lightlands Council. King Alfred had raised brave sons. His good friend Alfred had been successful in this and under normal circumstances would have been very proud of his sons. Heimarl felt his heart overwhelm with pride at Amos’s suggestion. He loved Alfred’s sons as if they were but his own.
‘My Prince, I wholly agree. The leaders of the Light Lands will act at the command of the human Royal family. These are wise words you choose. We must plan for immediate action to call the Lightlands Council as quickly as possible.’
‘Head Mage Heimarl, I thank you for your full support in my decision.’ Prince Amos was indeed relieved that the Head Mage agreed to his plan of action.
‘I wish to speak with my father alone now.’
Heimarl understood. The King would have no answers for his son. This King, his friend, was too deep in his bleak and morbid world of unhappy losses. He no longer had a grip on reality. He could not see the dangers his two eldest sons were to face in seeking to call the Lightlands Council together. This, Heimarl could see, but he could not advise the young Prince as a father could. He must still his tongue.
Heimarl knew that in time his own young daughter would also need to act as a protector of the Light Lands. He sighed with relief that at least she was too young to deal with this immediate danger. He could only hope that Heather would be better prepared as the Changeling when she was to be called upon by the world of Aarabassa.
The King’s Council slowly dispersed with heads bowed in riveting deliberations. Never, in any of their lifetimes had war been a possibility. Much needed to be agreed upon and much preparation there would be, to such an embarkation. All skills would be required and magic needed to be at its strongest. Who knows what type of beasts they were to be confronted with?
The room emptied of the exciting chatter. Amos remained sat by his father’s side.
‘Do you understand the outcome of this father?’
The air was still. The King stared hazily into nothingness, his eyes watery and hazy. Amos was sure his father was aware of what had just been agreed. Determined to get an answer he was persistent with his questioning.
‘Father, you must advise me. I will need to know how to go about this quest. Who are the leaders of all the different races? Where will I find them?’
Still, the room was quiet but for the voice of a young man seeking his father’s wisdom.
‘If you do not advise me, then Leon and I will be in danger when we attempt to confront these people. I can do this thing father. I can lead our people into battle. But if I do not return then who will lead them?’
‘Heimarl will be your guide. His wife Minnah was your mother’s friend, you know. They would cause me such grief with their mischief making.’ This was all the advice a father could supply. Amos bowed his head, rubbing his face in frustration that his father escaped so constantly to another time, a time that was gone and finished with. He wanted this man by his side but in his heart he knew this was not to be, he was to face this alone. No longer was his loving father the tower of strength that he remembered.
Gently Amos guided the old man out of the room. They passed a faint beam of sunlight that gleamed through the tinted glass of the windows and reflected a faint rainbow. High ceilings captured the bright light and enhanced the size of the long corridors. Amos directed his father towards his chambers. The King’s nurse greeted them and took over the task of the old man’s care. She led him to rest upon his bed. Amos left his father behind. It was time to move on.
Chapter 29 A Cure
The King watched his two sons, unseen and hidden behind a narrow slatted window. After a long night of broken sleep, filled with nightmarish dreams, he had been woken to the noise of laughter. A light breeze cooled his burning skin where hot sticky sweat wetted his forehead and neck. He looked on in envy observing his eldest son Amos, noticing the obvious joy he shared with his younger brother Raphael.
King Alfred could not impart of such fondness for this small child. He had tried. For his wife’s sake, he struggled to love this small life that remained, when she had finally left him. He stared at the strange boy who he could not even walk alone. His blood was as weak as rotten water and he was constantly ill with some disease or other. The healers had done all they could for him. At least the child was happy and well cared for, it was all he could provide for him.
Raphael laughed with glee, once again he was winning his older brother in their challenge of his favourite game of wooden soldiers.
It was so stimulating sitting out in the warmth of the sun within the Lower Royal Gardens. Sometimes he would sit alone upon the Roof Gardens but he preferred to be with his older brothers, and it provided him with such energy that no herbs had ever managed to achieve throughout his lifelong illness.
Setting up his miniature armies on a large wooden board, he looked at it with pride. This was his creation, a miniature scenery that he had built with his very own hands. Lumpy grey mountains emerged from the board and a wonderfully painted royal blue river divided the battlegrounds into two parts. Raphael had lovingly designed this tiny world during the long lonely moonwakes that he spent alone in his dimmed chambers.
Amos patiently arranged his own opposition forces over the green painted meadow positioned on his side of the landscaped board. Raphael, being the strategist of the family, knew all of his brother’s tactics. In this, Raphael was confident of winning.
Perched rigidly on a nearby branch that loomed from an old large Elm tree, a black-eyed yellow canary spied on them. The branches swayed in a slight breeze, whispering a quiet rustling hush of leaves. Raphael listened to the faint buzzing sound of a fat orange bee that whizzed closely by and then hovered towards the delicious aroma of an Orange tree. He watched the bee with interest and smiled at the vast freedom this tiny little creature has. An exhilarating wave of energy overwhelmed him. Outdoors was so invigorating compared to his dull chambers. It gave him a new lease of life, he could spend his entire moonwake outside, observing the birds and bees, smelling the perfumed scents of the sweet roses, listening to the squawks of passing geese that flew over his head in a magnificent arrow formation. If only he could stay for always in this bright warm world. He must ask of his brothers that his nurse ensures he experiences the warm sun and fresh air, more often.
‘I worry for you Amos, I truly do,’ Raphael spoke cheekily to his big brother Amos.
‘Oh yes and why would it be that an imp such as you could possibly concern himself with an almighty warrior such as me?’ Amos laughed teasingly.
‘I am truly serious Amos. If you cannot plan a battle strategy on my field, how will you ever win a real battle when you are King?’
‘Whoa there little brother.’ Amos realised Raphael’s seriousness in this matter. ‘Worry not. First, there have been no battles for a hundred suncircles, thanks to the Magic Wall. Secondly, maybe I let you win, ha, ever thought of that?’ Amos mocked.
‘Amos how could you?’ Raphael was bitterly disappointment in his brother’s lack of fighting spirit. ‘You know I hate a cheat but even more I hate people who cannot not stand up to a challenge. Are you afraid I may still win you, even if you were to try your very hardest?’
‘Shall I dunk my little brother in the water Well or maybe he woul
d prefer the latrine, so that it may clear his swelling head?’
‘You could probably do that. I have no strength to stop you.’ Raphael pushed his luck even further. ‘Yet you know that I am the strategist in this family and you must admit real defeat or I’ll .... I’ll ...’
‘Yes, all right I agree. My little victor Raphael!’ Amos fell down as if an arrow had shot him in the heart. ‘I truly do admit that you are an excellent strategist. What is more, you can be the King’s War Councillor and I will seek your advice if ever we go into battle. That is to say when I become King, of course. Meanwhile, it’s time to take you indoors; the heat of this sun is swelling the size of your brain.’
‘No! I don’t want to go indoors just yet. Really and truly Amos, I don’t.’ Raphael begged his big brother. ‘The warmth of the sun is very constructive to my health, don’t you know. Can I stay outdoors longer? My chambers are so dark that they make me feel ill,’ Raphael appealed against his brother’s better nature.
‘This is a sudden change of heart. Not so long ago I struggled to get you out of doors and now I struggle to get you in.’ Amos stretched his body upwards into a standing position. ‘I do have to leave though Raphael,’ he said looking down at the happy face of his brother. ‘I do have a Kingdom to learn how to run and there are important decisions to be made this very moonwake. You can stay a little while longer but you must call nurse Abby before the Dayloon is half way down the skies. Promise?’
‘This doesn’t give me long does it?’ Raphael resigned himself to the rules his brother laid down. ‘I was going to ask Abby to bring my mid-meal out doors. Can I not at least do this?’ Raphael longed to remain in the pretty gardens.
‘I want you to be happy little one but not at the expense of making you ill on the next moonwake because you pushed yourself too hard. If Leon were around to keep you company I would agree but out here all alone, I favour indoors. Let’s try and agree somewhere in the middle that will make us both happy, what do you suggest?’
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