King's Throne

by D' Arc, Bianca

  “Worse,” he answered in a voice that only she could hear. He didn’t want to alert everyone to the trouble he’d found from his initial examination of the records. He wanted to have all his ducks in a row before he broke the news to the other members of the Clan. “I’ll have to recheck these figures a few times, but it doesn’t look good.”

  “Well, frankly, neither does the rest of the place. Gisli put all my parents’ furniture—what he didn’t sell—in storage. He’s the one who bought all this tacky glass and chrome stuff.” She ran one hand along the glass tabletop. “The good news is I can get most of the old furnishings back, but it’ll take a little while. I talked to all of the household staff and put Maribeth in charge of reorganizing things there. Some of them didn’t want to serve anymore, with good reason. Gisli had abused them and forced at least two of the women into living up here at the stronghold to see to his every whim. The pig.”

  Mitch caught her hand and squeezed. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

  She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you won,” she whispered. “I was so afraid…until I realized the mountain was helping you.” She drew back to look into his eyes. “How in the world did you manage that? The volcano stopped erupting when the fight ended.”

  “I’m not really sure, but I can feel the mountain in the back of my mind now. Its energy is waiting. And I think…” He considered his words carefully before forging ahead. “I think it’ll come at my call. I think I finally understand that part in the Rule about the power of the fire and ice reserved for the king. I bet your dad had this kind of communion with the Grim. Actually, I can’t wait to talk to him about it.”

  “Well, he’s on his way. I called them as soon as I saw I had a signal.” The phones had been down last night because of the volcanic eruption. The ash plume had wrought havoc with the cell towers. “I wanted to let them know how it turned out, but Dad said he already knew. He’d seen your victory in a vision. They spent the night in a vigil at the stone circle praying for you.”

  Mitch was touched by the idea that the king and queen had kept vigil for him.

  “They’re coming here?” Mitch was glad. He wanted the title settled once and for all. The sooner the better. Some of the Guards had been calling him sire, and it wasn’t a comfortable fit at all.

  “They chartered a plane and are already on their way. They should be here late tonight and they’re bringing most of the Old Guard with them.”

  Mitch didn’t even blink at what had to be a huge expense. He knew the exiled king had done well in business over the years.

  “Unlike the Clan’s finances, your father has run a tight ship with his personal money. He left here with nothing and built a small empire of his own. He’s the perfect man to help the Clan recover financially.” Gears were turning in Mitch’s mind and things were falling into place.

  “So are you, Mr. MBA.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  He realized by that simple touch that he needed her presence. He needed the touch of his mate. She’d stood by him through everything, and he couldn’t love her more. They left the office area and ate lunch with some of the Millers and a few of the more highly placed staff members. Everyone wanted to get to know him and Gina, it seemed, which he understood, but it made it hard to find any time alone with his mate. The tiger bristled at the constant scrutiny, but Mitch knew it was only natural.

  After lunch, he and Gina took a quick walk outside to view the path of the flood from the day before. The day outside the stronghold was bright and sparkling. The mountain was silent and the mood was somber as they took in the scene of last night’s battle. Mitch listened to Harold and Hilda’s reports on the damage assessment from the flood. The stronghold had escaped with very little damage, which Mitch put up to the Lady. Her divine hand had been clear to him in the mountain’s actions during the battle.

  They went back into the ice palace reassured that its location had not been compromised by the challenge. By late afternoon, the mood in the stronghold had grown expectant. Frederick and Candis arrived just after dark with a large contingent of the Old Guard, and Mitch was really glad to see them.

  He watched while Gina greeted her parents with big hugs. He noticed there were also a few tears shed on the part of many of those who had not seen Iceland—their original homeland—in years.

  They all moved to one of the smaller audience chambers. The largest of the chambers would hold the entire village plus all the newcomers, so the room that was considered small was still huge by Mitch’s reckoning. There was a big central table and plenty of chairs. It almost looked like the round table of Arthurian legend, but Mitch didn’t dare say so out loud.

  Frederick and Candis sat first, followed by Gina and Mitch. Then everyone else took seats around the table. Mitch hadn’t planned it that way. It just sort of happened, but it was clear that everyone else was watching very closely to be certain they didn’t seat themselves before any of the white tigers.

  Mitch wasn’t sure how that made him feel. Being blanche was still very new to him and he felt like he was still the same person he’d always been. But people around here sure were treating him differently. He tried not to notice the way they quieted and moved aside when he and Gina passed.

  As an Alpha, Mitch was somewhat used to commanding the respect of other shifters, but this was much more. This was almost…reverence. And it didn’t sit comfortably.

  Some of the other things though, they came naturally. Fixing problems was part of his nature. Applying creative recovery strategies to the multiple messes left by the previous administration was right in his bailiwick. He’d already mapped out a tentative business plan to move the various companies the Clan owned or had an interest in, forward.

  Mitch wanted to run his ideas past Frederick and see what he thought. In fact, Mitch was almost nervous about it—in a good way. He might have an MBA, but he’d never used it much, and here was an opportunity to really get his hands dirty, resurrecting a group of companies that had been nearly run into the ground. He was eager to start—if Frederick agreed.

  But they had even bigger fish to fry at the moment. They had to settle the leadership of the Clan publicly, so it would be clear and as stable as they could make it for the good of their people. Mitch fully intended to make it plain he’d acted as Frederick’s champion and nothing more. He would happily take a background role and do what he’d always done—protect the monarchy and support the royal family in whatever way he could.

  It would be a little different now because he would technically be part of the royal family. That was new and more than a little uncomfortable, but there was no way he would ever give up Gina. She was his mate in all ways and for always. He would walk through fire to be with her. It would be an adjustment—one he was willing and eager to make if it meant spending the rest of his life with her.

  So Mitch sat back and let Frederick handle the gathering. Many key members of the Old Guard were present, as well as the highest ranking among Gisli’s Guard. The most important of the support staff were also present, waiting to hear what would happen next.

  “I want to start this meeting by stating unequivocally that I will not be reclaiming the throne,” Frederick began, shocking Mitch with his words. “Mitchell Gustavson won the seat of power by right of challenge and I have seen with my own eyes that he carries the Goddess’s favor. I followed Her direction when I went into exile all those years ago. I follow Her still.” Frederick looked directly at Mitch and his blue eyes were sparkling with emotion. “You have served Her well, Mitch, and you are the rightful king of our people now. Candis and I have discussed this at length. It’s time for you and Gina to rule. We will support you in any way we can, but our time on the obsidian thrones is over. Let this be a new start for our people. And may the Mother of All continue to bless your path.”

  Silence reigned and Mitch felt at sea for a moment. He hadn’t expected this. He’d been fully prepared to turn over what little authority
he’d gained since the battle to Frederick…and now this. Mitch was stunned.

  “Sire, I…” Mitch had to clear his throat before continuing. He wasn’t sure what to say. “I’ve never imagined I would rule. I am a simple soldier. A Royal Guard. I serve. It’s what I’ve trained my entire life to do. I don’t know the first thing about ruling.”

  “And yet you are a leader of men. An Alpha all other Alphas look up to. You have served the monarchs among the big-cat shifter Clans. It is time you came home to your rightful place. Time you served the tiger Clan in our time of need. You alone have the mandate of the Goddess, Mitch. And you have proven able to call on the sacred mountain as it was of old. I’ve heard about your battle in detail. All our people know that you are one with the Grim. You are the leader they will follow. You are the leader I place my faith in, now and for the rest of my days. Whether you like it or not—whether you are prepared or not—this is your time.”

  The weight of Frederick’s words hung heavily in the air and on Mitch’s shoulders. He was at a loss. But some of the things Frederick had said rang true in his heart. Mitch had read accounts of the kings of old in the histories of their people. It was often said they could command both fire and ice. Mitch had done that by being one with the mountain. He still didn’t quite know how, but he’d done it easily during the battle with Gisli. It had felt natural.

  In the history books Frederick had asked him to read, that was one of the main signs of kingship among the tigers of old. And it had happened to Mitch. For the first time in centuries, a Tig’Ra could tap into the full power and magic of the Grim. He couldn’t deny it. If he thought about it, the mountain was there now…in the back of his mind…an ever-present well of ancient energy just waiting for him. It welcomed him. It was eager to serve.

  As Mitch had served all his life. His had been a life of service. He’d honed his Alpha tendencies in a specific direction. As an orphan with no family of his own, he’d chosen to serve the monarchs of their kind. It had been his life’s work.

  Maybe… Mitch paused, allowing a few moments for his thoughts to process before he responded to Frederick’s words. Maybe his old life had ended that day. Maybe, with Gina’s help, he had been reborn into this new existence where his chosen role of protector and servant had expanded to include the entire tiger Clan rather than just a few monarchs of other big-cat shifter Clans. It made a lovely sort of sense if he was willing to accept it.

  He realized belatedly that he really had no other choice. He could not argue with the vision the Mother of All had granted him at the stone circle any more than he could argue with Her allowing him to feel her presence in the Grim, in her guise as Gaia, Mother Earth. He could not argue that She had taken a very personal interest in him for some unfathomable reason, and he had no choice but to accept and serve Her, as he had always tried to do. It was his nature, and his personal honor demanded he do no less.

  “Although I never thought to rule, I will accept the role.” Mitch reached for Gina’s hand. “But I want it made clear from the start that I serve the Clan, not the other way around. I will not repeat Gisli’s mistakes. The good of the Clan comes before my own. I promise to do all in my power to restore the peace and prosperity we once knew, and heal the schism that has kept us scattered and apart for all these years.” Mitch looked around at everyone, judging their responses by the expressions on their eager faces. There was a sense of joy in the room that could not be faked, and he could read approval in almost every gaze. He’d said the right thing. Thank the Lady. “And I don’t intend to spend all my time up here in Iceland. I’m sorry, but the world has changed and our business interests are all over the place. I think we’re going to have to form a secondary headquarters closer to where the action is. Maybe London, New York or Los Angeles. Maybe elsewhere. Maybe it’ll be a more mobile presence, but if we’re going to rebuild our finances, we need to be more agile.”

  Mitch outlined some of his ideas for reestablishing the Clan’s business interests, much to the surprise of many of those gathered in the small audience chamber. He could see that the Guards hadn’t had a clue about his business background, but they seemed to approve of his forward-thinking plans. The support staff was beaming. They’d been more involved in the day-to-day running of the Clan and they were in a better position to understand what Mitch had in mind.

  He invited comments and suggestions and with Frederick, Candis and Gina’s help—along with those support staff most impacted—they ironed out a preliminary plan to get the expenses under control. That was the first step. Gisli had spent the Clan into near bankruptcy with his extravagant and foolish ways. Mitch would put a stop to that right away and then begin a regimen that would hopefully bring the finances back into the black over time.

  He left the specifics of that part of the plan for later. This meeting was all about putting people to work right away to stop the bleeding Gisli had caused. After they got through with the business side of things, Mitch invited Harold and Helga to outline their plans for the Royal Guard. They’d spent time coming up with a well-thought-out plan that Mitch approved of whole-heartedly. The Old Guard was going to start training those that had been in residence at the stronghold. Any of those who wanted to retire to village life would be allowed to do so and the interested youngsters who had Guard tendencies would be put into a more rigorous training regimen.

  Harold was proving his worth and Mitch thought in time he’d be an excellent choice for Captain of the Guard. The Captain oversaw all the Guards of the Clan—a position of great power and authority. Helga, on the other hand, showed herself to be thoughtful and fully capable of taking charge of any given situation. Mitch could use someone like her—if she continued to prove her loyalty—to oversee Gina’s safety when Mitch couldn’t be by her side.

  Gina needed her own contingent of Guards dedicated to her alone. Most of them would be female, naturally, so they could easily go everywhere Gina might go. Mitch would probably have to have his own group too, but he saw them as more of a formality. He didn’t necessarily want a group of guys following him around wherever he went, but he understood the necessity. He’d go along with it, if only to make sure Gina did the same. Mitch thought Paul Miller would be a good choice to lead his own personal Guard, if he was agreeable, but he’d take that up with Paul in private.

  The meeting lasted more than two hours. At that point, Mitch broke it up with a promise to meet again the next day. He took a much smaller group that included Gina and her parents as well as a few of their friends from America to another chamber where snacks had been set up for them. Paul checked over all the food without even being asked, already falling into the role of Royal Guard without being formally appointed. Mitch silently approved.

  Everyone seemed happy with the change in leadership, but Mitch knew they couldn’t be too careful. He’d already been poisoned once. He didn’t want to repeat the experience.

  They shared a more relaxed atmosphere, talking about the events of the past week. Mitch felt more at ease with this group of friends and was almost able to forget all the crazy shit that had happened to him in the past day or two.

  “I still don’t understand why or how Gisli turned golden during the battle,” Paul said as he reached for another serving of mutton stew.

  “I think I have an answer for that one,” Harry said from the other end of the table. “I was talking to Amma Hilda—your great-grandmother, they said—” Harry nodded toward Mitch. “She told us she’d had her suspicions about Gisli’s color for a long time. She thinks his pet mage was keeping him white magically and that’s why the color was kind of sickly. When the mage disappeared, the color went with him.” Harry bit into a drumstick as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell into the conversation.

  “Well, that would explain a lot,” Frederick said finally after a moment of silence in which everyone seemed to think about the old woman’s theory. “I could never figure why he remained blanche when it was so clear he’d strayed well off the path o
f the Lady. Being blanche isn’t just an hereditary thing. It’s a magical, sacred thing—as you well know, Mitch.” Frederick nodded toward him and then returned his attention to his glass. “I mourned Gisli’s loss back when he turned from the path of Light. I am sad at his death, but I know it was the only way to save our people—to save our Clan. I’m only sorry he didn’t redeem himself in some way before the end.”

  Everyone fell silent, the mood turning solemn.

  “I’m sorry,” Mitch said finally. “I know he was your brother. Even though he was in the wrong, I will never celebrate his death. Just as I have never celebrated any of the lives I’ve had to take in the course of my duties. I will pray to the Lady for his spirit.”

  Frederick met his gaze. “You are wise beyond your years, Mitch Gustavson. I have lost a brother, but I’m proud to have gained you as my son-in-law.” He raised his glass and everyone followed suit in a silent toast to family both lost and found.

  “Which reminds me…” Candis said after the toast had been completed. “Have you given any thought to a formal mating ceremony? It’s traditional among the royal families to have some kind of ceremony and reception to acknowledge the union publicly.”

  Mitch wasn’t sure what to think. The expense of a big party wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate after looking at the Clan’s books. He might be able to pay for it out of his own pocket, but he wasn’t a rich man. He’d put aside part of his salary over the years and invested wisely, but his bank account wasn’t that of a king’s just yet.

  “It doesn’t have to be anything lavish,” Candis went on as if reading his mind. Or maybe she was just reading his expression. “In fact, anything too fancy or expensive would be foolhardy in the current situation. But a formal mating ceremony, witnessed by as many of the Clan and shifter dignitaries who wish to come, plus an informal get-together after would be a nice thing to do. With help from the ladies in the village, I bet we could put something together that would satisfy the dignity of the occasion and the need for our people to celebrate life once again. It would be a good gesture to begin your reign.”