Kingshold

by D P Woolliscroft

  “Trypp, my friend, it isn’t all about coin. Sometimes, we must go to where the current is strongest and see where the river takes us.” Motega rested his hand on his tall friend’s shoulder. “The people of this city have no balls! For hundreds of years, they’ve let a few rule them when they have the greater numbers. A chieftain on the plains of my home would be challenged and killed for being as useless as these kings and queens. Now, the people are growing balls. Finally. And no surprise it’s three women at the center of it for this growing of balls. So, we should be there at the heart of it. I think it’ll be fun.” And Motega smiled a big toothy smile at Trypp.

  “I agree with our grinning ranger here,” piled on Florian. “And here’s one other thing for you to think about, Trypp. What if they win? If they help a candidate become lord protector. That will mean we helped, too. How much future forgiveness do you think it buys us to have the protector of Edland behind us? Think of it as a wager, a bet on a long-shot outcome, and all it’ll cost us is a little time.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Trypp rubbed his bearded chin, the motion helping him to align his thoughts. “A lord protector of Edland could probably even get us out of jails in other countries. That would be a lot of forgiveness. So, here’s the deal, boys. If they offer us the job, then we’ll take it in the end, but you’ve still got to let me negotiate to the point where I’m pretty sure I’m getting half of everything they’ve got. Alright?”

  “Deal,” said Motega.

  “Deal,” said Florian.

  “This is going to be fun,” said Trypp.

  Motega knew he would come ’round.

  Chapter 19

  A Wizard’s Anger

  “So, you’ve forgiven me, daughter?” Jyuth wore a long robe of purple velvet over his nightgown, looking more like the old man he was than she remembered seeing him before. It was a little after seven in the morning, and he had just woken before Neenahwi had arrived at his rooms.

  “Not entirely, but I don’t want to lose these last few weeks with you, Father. I can wait to be angry with you all over again.”

  “That’s a small pleasure to me, and I want to take all of those I can get.” The old man smiled and embraced Neenahwi. “Now, where is that girl? Alana knows she’s to wake me earlier than this and bring me my breakfast. I’d offer you coffee, but I don’t know how to get it myself. Let’s sit, and we can have some of this wine from last night.”

  They sat in Jyuth’s bedchamber, and he poured two cups of red wine, picking out some small insects which had drowned a happy death in the uncovered jug. When they both had a drink in hand, Neenahwi explained what happened that night on Mount Tiston, the release of the demon gem’s power, but then its reticence to release its gifts after. She shared her thoughts on the potential future rulers of Edland, too, providing a colorful commentary on their relative merits (or demerits, as was mainly the case).

  “Two critical topics, my dear,” he said, nodding, having allowed her to talk uninterrupted. “With regard to the first, I have some knowledge to share, though it may not sit easily. For the second, I have no magical insights, but maybe history can help?”

  “Let’s start with the demon gem. What am I missing? Why can’t I use it?” Neenahwi was eager for answers.

  “Well, you’ve figured out more than I did a week after discovering my first stone of a similar heritage. Now, let me caveat that my knowledge may not be complete, so don’t think of it as the end of your research, but it’s practical in some sense.

  “I know of two ways to access the energy within the stones. The secret is you cannot connect a thread to the stones as you would a living thing, as there’s no way to penetrate it. And I tried to cut them, drill a hole even.” Her father chuckled at the memory. “The stone has to make a connection to you, and that’s where I know of two ways.

  “The first is through anger. Because these stones aren’t of this world, they seek out what they know, and the great demons are creatures of rage and hatred. So, when the holder is angry, it’s like the dam bursts and the mana flows. And like a burst dam, the torrent that comes out can sometimes be uncontrollable. That’s why people generally don’t like it when I become angry.”

  “In both cases, it was my anger that caused it, then. First, my anger at you, and then at myself not being able to make the stone work.”

  “I’m glad to see I was useful for something, dear. The second method is through blood. When a stone comes into contact with the holder’s blood, there’s a slow seep of magical energy from the stone to the wizard. It adds to your life force, so you can use it at will without leeching on your reserves. Look here.” Jyuth rolled up his sleeves and opened his robe and nightgown to bare his chest. “See these small scars? That’s the mark of my using the stones. I have three such stones, and I’ve had them set in trinkets I can wear, but in each case, there’s a sharp edge or point which agitates against my flesh and causes a small wound. The blood and the stone come into contact, and a connection is made.”

  “Ingenious. How did you discover that?”

  “By accident, of course, like most great discoveries. Now, here is the but. You have to be very aware of how long you stay in contact with the gem. It’ll corrupt you if you use it too much or wear it too long. It’ll fill you with anger, and your aspect will change. You’ll become more akin to the creatures who used these stones in their home world. And with too much anger, you can release too much power for your body to contain. It wants to destroy, and it might not mind if it’s you. So be sparing. And your meditations become even more important to purge any anger on a daily basis.”

  “You talk about the stones as if they’re sentient. Do they have a mind of their own?”

  “Not all things need to have a mind, Neenahwi, to have a nature. Rivers flow down to the sea. Trees reach up to the sky. This is why they exist, and this is what they do, and you can’t change it. Think of the stones in the same way. I can help you design a necklace, or a torc that will serve your need, and I know of someone who can craft it for you.” Jyuth reached over to the table and refilled their cups, pouring out the last of the slightly sour wine. “And so, to the second topic.”

  Neenahwi was grateful and relieved to have the secret to the demon gem, and so was content to move onto the second of her worries. “Father, these candidates are all different kinds of useless. Or downright scary. Even Uthridge worries me for what he believes is coming. What would you do? Who would you support?”

  “Well, I’m not going to tell you what I’d do, and don’t get angry with me!” He smiled and held up his hands in surrender. “We don’t want you melting down the palace now, do we? No, I’m not going to tell you because, if I did and you followed my thinking, then it’s no different than if I did it myself. If it went wrong, then you’d feel it was my fault, not yours. And I might, too. And this old man wants to be free of guilt.

  “However,” he continued, “I’ll give you two pieces of advice I’ve learnt over the years, and I’ll also tell you a story. One I have probably told before, but you might not remember it. So, here’s the advice. Firstly, no one is perfect. I’ve realized not everything will be done the way you want it to be done, and most of the time I accept it. Only when there’s something truly egregious, despicable, or threatening to the empire, do I intervene. And that’s been the only way I’ve found to be able to live with a bearable level of guilt and not turn into a tyrant like Llewdon.”

  At the mention of her former captor and emperor of Pyrfew, she wondered what made these two men different, even though they were both so long-lived. “Have you ever thought about just taking over? I can’t imagine you ever being a tyrant.”

  “A few times. Especially early on. And so, even though I just counseled patience when others were making decisions, I know I’m not patient when in the middle of things. If I were to rule, then I’d rule everything. Even though I’d have good in my heart, I’d still be laying out a maze for the people of Edland, where every twist and tu
rn had been defined by me. I don’t think people want to have their whole journey planned out for them, especially for those where it may result in a dead end. Tyranny, in my eyes, is not when the ruler does injustice on their own people; that’s plain and simple evil. Tyranny is the taking away of choice, the enslavement of all, even if some of the subjects may have jewel-encrusted manacles.”

  “My second piece of advice is brief. Trust Uthridge. He has the sharpest military mind I’ve seen in a long time. The risks he sees are real. But that doesn’t mean he’ll make a good lord protector.”

  Neenahwi nodded. In a way, she was relieved to know the other old man she cared for was not losing his mind, though she needed time to ponder the broader repercussions.

  He took a big sip of wine and continued. “And so, this brings me to my story. Once I was young, though you may find that difficult to believe. I had barely seen fifty winters, but I had studied and gained power in many different places—”

  “Where did you study magic?” interrupted Neenahwi. “You’ve never told me.”

  “And I’m not going to today, and I may never,” Jyuth reached over and patted her hand, “but I have taught you almost all I know. Trust me in that. So, as I was saying, I had just returned to the land of my birth, what we now call Edland. Back then, there were twenty, thirty kings. I can’t remember precisely how many. All squabbling over various patches of dirt. They called themselves kings, but they were indeed little more than war chiefs with wooden forts as their homes.

  “I’d traveled to other lands and cities where I’d seen what I thought of as civilization, and I wondered why it hadn’t evolved with my people. I chalked it off to the island we live on, isolated from other countries and other influences, but big enough that there wasn’t a desire amongst most men to see what the rest of the world held.

  “Why venture across the unknown sea when you could fight who was in front of you? I spent many years traveling from one shit-hole fortress to another, taking stock of these men who called themselves kings, and they were not impressive. Oh, some of them could fight, fight like the heroes of old they were, but they weren’t leaders of peace, which is much more challenging than being a leader in war.

  “But on a visit to one dunghole—fifty miles north along the coast from Kingshold it was, but is there no more—I came across a warrior called Edward. He was a king’s champion, quick with spear and skilled with sword, but he was also aware. He observed things and took an interest in people. He didn’t have an ego and didn’t benefit from his status. He was to be my clay.

  “I spent time with him and befriended him, before I had to leave with some excuse or another. I went back across the sea to the northern kingdoms, traveling in disguise, and I told them about an island with bountiful fields and gold in the hills you could dig up with your hands. It took a while, but that spring they invaded, landing near the settlement of Edward and his king. I had, of course, warned them, and they were prepared. They met the raiding party from the north on the beach.”

  “An arrow took the king in the eye, most unlucky for an arrow to fly so far and so accurate, as the king lurked at the rear. And Edward was a hero that day, killing twenty men himself and setting fire to the boats. So, of course, Edward became king of this little backwater, and I became his advisor.

  “Over the next year, a full-scale invasion came from across the sea, but they landed on the long shore of this island, keeping clear of Edward’s lands. Many fiefdoms were destroyed, and many kings and their people fled their lands. And Edward, smart lad that he was, had the wonderful idea to bring the kings together so they could join forces to regain their lands. I wonder where he got the idea from? At the kingsmeet, after weeks of discussions and tourneys, there was, at last, agreement Edward would command the combined forces.

  “He had a brilliant tactical mind, using the strengths of the different people in complementary ways, and so, by the next winter, they’d driven out the invaders. Many of the kings had worked closely with Edward in the field and grew to love him, and I befriended them, too. Unfortunately, many other kings not in this close circle perished on the battlefield. And a week after the last of the northerners were driven from this land, another kingsmeet was held, and the remaining kings begged Edward to be the one true king of this land. There was a traveling priest of Arloth nearby we commandeered to pronounce that Edward had been chosen by God and that was that. They then named Edland in his honor.

  “He was a good king, and the start of civilization on this island. He built the original parts of this palace. But he also knew his limits and where to trust others, not just me, but other carefully selected advisors. Back then, we knew we were building something special…” Jyuth trailed off, and silence reigned for a few seconds.

  “And?” asked Neenahwi.

  “And that’s it. End of story,” he said, dusting off his hands. “Make of it what you will. Make of this kingdom what you will. And most importantly, make your life what you will.”

  “You’re being rather melodramatic, aren’t you? And evasive, too.”

  “Yes, maybe. I should have disappeared in a puff of smoke at the end of the story like a real wizard would have.” Both he and Neenahwi shared a smile. “But I’m so hungry! Where’s my breakfast? Where’s Alana?”

  The door to the apartments opened and in stepped the girl Neenahwi recognized from her most recent visit to these rooms. She wore the simple black dress of palace staff, but she was moving gingerly. A cut above her eye, stitched tidily, and a swollen purple cheek the signs of some assault.

  “I’m here, my lord. I’m so sorry I’m late.” Her voice was partially distorted by a thick lip that joined to meet the swollen cheek.

  “Alana, what happened to you, my girl?” Jyuth ran across the room to meet her, taking hold of her hand. “Come, sit down.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said Alana as she was swept into the seat Jyuth had just vacated, “but I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. Now, tell me, what happened to you?”

  “I was attacked last night when walking home. Nothing for you to worry about, my lord.”

  The old man leaned forward, hands on his thighs to bring his eyes level with Alana. “I’m going to tell you one last time, or I’m going to pull it out of your mind myself. Was this because of me? Like last time when you were followed?”

  “No… Yes… Both, I guess.” Alana took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and the story flooded out. “I was at a meeting where we were trying to organize for the common people of the city to vote, with the supervisors of a lot of the districts, and I suggested how we could do it. I said I thought you wanted more people to be involved, not just the nobles. I hope you don’t mind.

  “And then, after the meeting, we were planning how we were going to do it, and when I left to go home, Win—he’s the supervisor of Fourwells, but you probably knew that already—was waiting for me. He said he wanted to take me to someone, as I knew too much, and I tried to get away from him when he was holding me, and so, I kicked him in the plums and ran, but he caught up with me and hit me, and he would have killed me if it wasn’t for three men coming along and saving me.” Neenahwi noted she said all of that in one breath, thinking about how she had missed her calling as a pearl diver.

  “Do you know who this Win was working for?” asked Neenahwi.

  Alana looked at Jyuth. “It was Aebur. Those men who saved me went to his house to find out. They stopped him from talking. They broke his jaw and his thumbs.”

  Jyuth paced in a circle. Neenahwi could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. “What is it, Father?” she asked. “Why are you so upset? It seems like Alana has managed to take care of business herself. And without killing anyone, I might add. Maybe you should take note.”

  “Hah! It’s Aebur. I warned him off prying into my business. I warned him about being involved in the election. And I’m sure he participated in that business with the king.”

  “You think he has an agenda?
”

  “Of course, he has a fucking agenda! It’s being an enormous slimeball, who’ll help whoever’s paying him the most! And one of his agents doing this to Alana is like doing it to me. I’m going to pop his rancid little head.” He disappeared into his bedchamber and quickly changed into one of his typical blue robes, belted with steel discs attached in their holsters.

  “I’ll come with you, Father,” she called to him before seeing to the girl in obvious discomfort. “Alana, you’re very diligent coming in today, but you should be resting. Lie down on the chaise there and sleep.”

  Jyuth, now changed, stormed through the sitting room and toward the palace grounds. “Neenahwi! Stop fucking dawdling! I’m angry. And I haven’t had breakfast.”

  “Stand aside, men.” Jyuth strode quickly toward the iron-bound oak door, waving half a sausage he’d picked up from the kitchen on the way. The two palace guards standing outside looked in two minds as what to do.

  “My lord,” said one of the guards, “Master Aebur is currently having his breakfast. I can announce you if you wait a moment.”

  “I warned you.” The remains of the sausage disappeared into the old man’s mouth. Her father’s hands now free, Neenahwi saw the magical energy gathering in his palms before he swept them to either side, the armored guards skittering across the floor with a scrape of metal on stone. The next moment, the door imploded in a shower of splinters and metal shards. One of the guards struggled to get back to his feet.

  “I’d strongly suggest you don’t get involved,” said Neenahwi.

  The guard took one look at the door and his unconscious fellow and ran up the corridor away from trouble.

  “Aebur, I warned you!”