Hail to the Queen (Sage Trilogy, Book 3)

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Hail to the Queen (Sage Trilogy, Book 3) Page 12

by Julius St. Clair


  “And we always will be,” Catherine said suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention. She grabbed both of James’ cheeks and brought him close to her. “We will never be ready to face Zen-echelon, until we know what we’re up against.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that we need to know our enemy,” Catherine replied solemnly. “If he intends to finally show himself, I am not missing out on this opportunity. Even if Prattle evacuates, I’ll be staying behind. Whether it’s this Kingdom or ours, we have to take a stand at some point.”

  “The Princess is right,” Gyruin said for all to hear. “If this boy speaks truth, and Zen-echelon is coming, then we will stay to learn of this foreign Kingdom as well. As Prattlians, we just can’t let this opportunity go by.”

  “It’s possible he’s choosing Prattle first because of your people’s intelligence. He wants to remove the brains of our four Kingdoms. And this would be the perfect opportunity to do so – eliminate the strategists before we all have time to unify.”

  “Princess, we don’t even have confirmation that any of this is true,” Gyruin said. “Try to look at it from our perspective. We’re not going to start erupting into chaos simply because an Allayan boy says a Kingdom that hasn’t shown itself in decades is deciding to pay us a visit. We’ll do our best to give you an audience with the King, but we can’t promise much beyond that, especially some kind of formal alliance. It is our Kingdom after all. We’ll decide how to take this information.”

  “You’re right,” Catherine said. “But if Zen-echelon does appear before we’re through with our business, know that you have me and my Sages at your disposal. Until then, we’ll proceed as planned.”

  “Are you serious?” James shouted. “You don’t understand how powerful this –“ Arimus grabbed him and covered James mouth with his hands.

  “James, let them proceed. We are not to question.” Gyruin and Catherine continued talking despite the interruption and they all moved as one unit further up the snowy mountain. The winds began dying down as they proceeded but James refused to let this reprieve soothe him.

  “Arimus, this is suicide!” James exclaimed once he was let free. “We could all be killed!”

  “A warrior doesn’t think about himself, nor the lives of the men under his care,” Arimus said. “He trusts that they will carry out their assignments with expertise and discretion. Any failure is merely seen as weakness on their part and regarded as such. We’re not given the luxury of weeping and sorrow. There is only our duty, our honor, our code. Think about it, James. If we evacuate and run to fight another day, Zen-echelon is the only one to gain. Yes, we may have our lives temporarily, but Prattle will be destroyed. Their people will be displaced and afraid, and we will be no closer to defeating our enemy in the end. By standing our ground, some if not most may die, but valuable knowledge will be gained. There will be survivors to pass along the information to the other Kingdoms and a plan can actually be formed.”

  “You do realize that Catherine could be killed right? If Zen-echelon sees an opportunity to get her stone, it will.”

  “If you as a warrior do your job,” Arimus said firmly. “Then you will succeed in protecting her. Anything else will be seen as a weakness on your part.”

  “Message received,” James said as he took a deep breath. If he was going head first into battle, he needed to be stronger. A lot stronger....and he knew that his Quietus abilities could probably do the job. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that the voice had been lying to him when it said the restrictions on his power were magically removed. It might just be another ploy to make him transform into a Quietus, and ultimately put him completely under Zen-echelon’s control…

  * * * * *

  “Princess, welcome to the prestigious Kingdom of Prattle,” Gyruin said as he pushed on the small entrance doors. Over a hundred guards were standing outside the narrow entrance on the mountain’s edge, but James ignored them. He admired the structure. It looked like it reached Paradise itself. Standing beyond the clouds, it looked like one giant cathedral, complete with cylinders that looked like organ pipes stretching high into the sky. The structure was made of a combination of materials: brick, diamond, gold, brass, silver, all placed in areas that appeared random but Gyruin had sworn it was to maximize the structure’s integrity.

  Once they traveled beyond the entrance, there was a large, open brick courtyard. Wooden benches and free flowing fountains were in abundance and statues of several figures from Prattle’s history were placed upon them. Although the light snow was allowed to fall freely into the common area, it didn’t stick to the ground and only provided a calming backdrop to the number of Prattlians walking from one side of the courtyard to the other, holding books in their hands as they fought to memorize its words, others singing to themselves a poetic song and children using the chalk in their hands to perform equations well doused in geometry and physics. All of them were wearing long flowing robes that reminded James of what he looked like in his transformed state. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was theirs, but then he dismissed the thought? How could that be possible considering everyone was wearing them? Surely the whole Kingdom couldn’t have tapped into such a level of power…but then again, they were said to be the most intelligent people in the land.

  To the left and right of the courtyard on each end were small shops that resembled the ones of Allay, except a podium was placed in front of each, and the buildings themselves were once again crafted out of a mixed elements and alloys. To the north, going up a small ramp was another brick trail that eventually led to the castle, a shining beacon of diamond that drew one’s eyes instantly. The place where the greatest of Prattlians resided: their King. Word was that he was still looking for a mate to join him on the throne but that he hadn’t found a woman intelligent enough for him.

  That, or he was afraid of being shown up in mental calisthenics.

  “What are the podiums in front of the shops for?” James asked. Gyruin laughed heartily and shook his head.

  “Oh, the daily banter. Each shop owner comes out at noon to declare why the people should come to their store and not another’s. They should be starting soon.”

  “Everyone is educating themselves in some capacity,” Catherine said in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “And you won’t anywhere else, “Gyruin said. “Our stone grants us a power that is both a blessing and a curse. While we are given vast amounts of knowledge from the beginning, it’s like a river without an end. It just keeps pouring in and we have to constantly be filtering out what we’re thinking in some manner, whether it’s yelling at one another in debate or performing equations. In the past thirty years, thanks to the wisdom of King Nathaniel, we’ve actually been able to determine how much a child absorbs from the stone at birth, which in turn gives some the river flow of knowledge, and others the ‘light rain’. My brother Tyuin actually works with him daily, carrying out his commands. He tells me every week how intelligent our leader truly is.”

  “What’s the point of giving some people only a little of the stone’s power?”

  “Well, then we’re able to carry out tasks we wouldn’t have been able to otherwise,” Gyruin said, pointing to his mind. “By giving me only a little, I’m able to become a soldier and concentrate better. If all that knowledge flowed through me constantly, I would be distracted. This control over the stone gives us an army, and a people that can perform the tasks that we all used to just yell and preach about. We become doers as well as thinkers.”

  “Very productive.”

  “Although we don’t interact much with the outside world, it’s enabled us to reach heights in not just our lifestyles, but also advances in uncharted territory. Take this for example, see that over there?”

  Gyruin pointed over to the left where they were just passing by a blacksmith’s store. Above it was a large box with a clear circle on the front of it. It appeared like several pieces of different colo
red string were extending from the back into the roof. Catherine inspected it carefully until Gyruin continued on.

  “It’s called a camara,” he said. “It takes pictures of us every ten seconds so that we have a type of security without the guards always having to be in the courtyard personally.”

  “Pictures? Like a painting?”

  “Yes, but of you. No one has to draw it either. It just snaps a picture of you right where you stand. Lina is very good with devising new ways to increase our defenses.”

  “I would love to get one of those,” Catherine said as Gyruin laughed.

  “Perhaps you and the King can come to an agreement. Though if you plan to take our stone from us, I doubt you’ll get much more than that.”

  “Are you okay with that?” she asked. “I mean, look at what your people have accomplished. And there’s such a sense of peace here. You’ve all worked together for the betterment of your Kingdom, and I’m threatening to take that away.”

  “Without the Quietus nearby, we’ll be able to sleep at night, and we’ve come to the conclusion long ago that we may not always have the stone. The Quietus after all could have come and took it for themselves whenever they wanted. If it wasn’t for the fact we were seen as weak and not worthy of sport, we would have long been decimated. I’m sure there will be some major adjustments at first, but the absence of the stone will get easier, especially for future generations who will not have gotten to take part. We will manage. You should be more concerned about the other Kingdoms. Quietus will lose its power and they love to fight. Languor will lose its ability to produce their entertainment in mass quantities. They’ll lose their minds when they find out how long it will take to build an arena for their games.”

  “That makes me feel better,” Catherine sighed. “I hope your King upholds his end of the bargain though. I’m hoping we didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

  “It is not up to me to decide,” someone said in a deep, muffled voice. The group turned toward the castle and saw the King of Prattle descending the ramp with two guards on each side. Gyruin and his troop bowed down and Catherine and the Sages soon followed suit. King Nathaniel waved a hand forward, signaling them to stand as he approached. Catherine stepped out to greet him.

  “I’ve heard much about you,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “I was told of your arrival,” he said slowly through his massive grey beard. He was a lanky, withered old man with brittle, bone-thin fingers. His skin was translucent, yet he wore his title with authority and boldness. As James examined the King’s humble, grey cloth robe, and then right back at the diamond castle, he realized that the former King must have built it. This King did not seem like one for show and glamour, though there was no doubt he was a lot stronger than he appeared.

  “We came back as quickly as we could,” Catherine replied. “We had some difficulty.”

  “I’m sorry to hear of the loss of your comrades. It brings me more pain than you may know. The loss of even one, whether from Prattle or not, affects us all in the end. Still, I applaud your success.”

  “We don’t have the stone with us, your Majesty, but we brought proof.”

  “That is unnecessary. I trust the word of my men. But we do have some more to discuss. Care to sit down with an old man?”

  “Certainly,” she said as he motioned over to one of the wooden benches overseeing the courtyard. “Wouldn’t your Majesty like to sit in the castle where it’s warmer?”

  “It is quite cold,” the old man chuckled. “But I enjoy the bickering of the merchants. We don’t have very much fun in this Kingdom. Don’t have the time. So this is the best we have. Look, the merchant’s apprentices are already coming out to wipe down the podiums and put a nice hot lantern next to it to warm their master’s feet.”

  “Sire,” Catherine said as they sat down together. “Our time may be short.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he said, still looking at the apprentices work. Gyruin and his troop stood to the King’s right as James and Arimus stood to Catherine’s left, both parties giving them adequate space to look out over the courtyard.

  “Since we’ve taken care of Quietus, will we be given the stone as promised?” Catherine asked boldly.

  “Of course,” the King replied, leaning back in the bench with both hands in his lap. “But it’s not just my decision. The people must also have their say.”

  “So we must take our case to your people?”

  “Out of respect,” he said. “Don’t worry, I will still grant you the stone if they ultimately refuse, simply because you’ve cut our enemy off at the knees. But it’s only proper that we let the people have their say. If they decide you are worthy of the stone’s possession, it will give them a sense of ownership and the decision will feel like their own. This helps me keep the people unified in the wake of change.”

  “Very wise,” Catherine said as she mentally took notes. “I must remember these things.”

  “If your people even make you Queen, is that correct?” the old man chuckled. “I heard about your declaration to the Allayans. That they can decide who will become their leader. Your heart was surely in the right place, but you must be wary of giving them too much power. There are rulers in place for a reason. Tell me, do you think you could rule well?”

  “I’m not sure,” Catherine said.

  “She would,” Arimus and James said in unison, jumping into the conversation. James flashed Catherine a smile as she blushed and turned back to the King. King Nathaniel smiled warmly and studied the Sages.

  “That was certainly more than enough to convince me, Princess Catherine. A ruler must always be self-evaluating, questioning their decisions and the motives behind him, less they fall to darker vices. But a good indicator of your value and worth to your people are their opinions of you when they aren’t asked or coerced. These Sages of yours freely gave their approval, and for that, you should be proud of your decisions thus far.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Catherine blushed, keeping her head low. The King extended the tips of his fingers out, and lifted her chin until she was eye-level.

  “But you must also not be afraid of your strength. Those that are meant to rule can predict the future and can make the decisions that will keep a nation strong, even if unfavorable. While it’s admirable that you’ve given the Allayans the right to choose, do not be afraid to take your throne if necessary, for the greater good of your people. I have heard many exciting things of Allay in your absence.”

  “What have you heard?” she asked eagerly.

  “That Sages are being born,” he declared. Catherine’s eyes brightened at the words.

  “I knew that would get a rise out of you,” the old King smiled. “To hear of your Kingdom thriving must give you hope for the future. But heed the words of this old man. Too often an abundance of good is simply given to prepare you for the incoming tribulation. I fear that such an explosion of Sages being born may be a sign of dark times.”

  “I believe you’re right,” Catherine said solemnly. “Have your men told you of my Sage’s message? About Zen-echelon?”

  “They have,” the King replied, turning to James. “Are you certain Zen-echelon is on its way to Prattle? I’m not too fond of hasty decision making.”

  “The voice said he was, but that doesn’t mean he is without a doubt,” James said. “Still, I would be cautious.”

  “Hmmm,” the King thought for a few seconds. “Unfortunately, Zen-echelon is deemed quite powerful amongst my people. Even in debate, few side with the stance in which that Kingdom is actually weak. And we have confirmation from Quietus that have died or gone missing to further confirm this…it’s only logical to assume that they are a force more powerful than even our worst enemy, which would mean that if we are attacked, Prattle will probably fall.”

  “My Sages and I will fight by your side,” Catherine said. “We want to test the enemy’s strength for ourselves.”

  “Excessive preparatio
n will do us no good,” the King sighed. “Our Kingdom has little defense. Our guard is still is in its infancy. The best we can do is to evacuate our people through the vault prisons under the mountain’s surface, and shut the door on our way out to prevent anyone pursuing.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Catherine said. “We’ll follow your lead.”

  “Don’t be so hasty,” the King chuckled. “Although our defense is lacking, our surveillance is not. We’ll be able to see when our enemy is coming from miles away. Until then, I want my people to enjoy our last moments in Prattle doing what we do best. We will evacuate once we can actually confirm the enemy’s approach.”

  “Then what will we do in the mean time?”

  “Observe,” the King replied, pointing to one of the shops. As if on cue, out of each of the forty shops stepped its owner. All of them were wearing work clothes but their faces were as clean as an egg’s surface. They each approached their respective podiums silently and reverently as if they were preparing to deliver a sermon of doom to their congregation. One of them cleared his throat. The moment he did so, it was apparent that the Prattlians had devised some kind of system to amplify their voices for all in attendance to hear.

  “According to the rules,” the man said, “and the epic drawing of straws that took place outside Orion’s outhouse that he dares call a place of business, I have been allowed to speak first. And I will start out by saying that the noble people of Prattle should from henceforth, come to my shop and mines alone for any manner of kitchenware. The reason: Malin’s plates and things shop are all comprised of used materials, taken from his own personal kitchen, and I have confirmation that all who has used his wares since its inception has an incurable disease that could only have been given through excessive amounts of saliva and possibly other bodily –“

  “HOW DARE YOU!” Malin roared from across the courtyard. “You’re just jealous because I craft my cups and plates out of durable glass, and not paper like you! You hear that, everyone! He makes his plates out of paper! Toilet paper!”

 

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