by Nova Rose
* * *
Seething, King Slyamal drummed his fingers against the cold metal of his chair as he listened to the report by one of his advisors. He glared at the dancing flames in the hearth unsure of what to think. The man being described sounded familiar.
“And you are certain of these events?” asked the king.
“Quite, my lord,” said the advisor. “He and his men disguised themselves in the armor of the orcs thereby fooling the beasts as they approached. He saved Belarnia that day and King Shealayr is most grateful. He even sent his captain of the guard with him.”
“Who is this man?”
The advisor dropped the scroll in his hand and looked at his king. “The man’s name is Tesnayr, the same messenger you had imprisoned when he came to warn you about these orcs. The man was right and might even have been a commander in your army had you not treated him so callously.”
King Slyamal’s face flushed from anger. “You dare impugn me?”
“Your actions have put you in this situation. Even Arnin left because of how you treated this man and failed to heed his warnings. You needlessly sent an entire contingent of soldiers to their deaths.
“This Tesnayr has amassed his own army of people loyal to him. Your own people do not trust your judgment anymore and look to him to save their homes and families from the orcs. It is said that this Tesnayr refuses to serve any king, yet he helps them.
“This man knows these savages. He knows how to fight them and win. Send a messenger to him, my lord. I beseech you. Ask this man for help. Orcs approach our land once again and twice your armies have been defeated by them!”
“Refused a king?”
“Yes,” replied the advisor. “King Shealayr offered him a position of honor among the ranks of his elves. Such an offer has never been made to any man. And Tesnayr refused him.”
“Where is this Tesnayr now?” asked King Slyamal.
“Scouts have reported that he is headed north as we speak.”
“So he is coming to us.” King Slyamal stroked his beard in thought. Deep down, he knew his advisor was right; he needed the help of this Tesnayr. But pride stayed his hand.
King Slyamal had suffered two defeats and his people had fared even worse because of his arrogance and stupidity. They grew dissident toward him. Rumors of rebellion spread across the countryside. He needed a victory for his own sake. Orcs approached the eastern border as well as from the north. Thoughts percolating, King Slyamal conceived of a plan that might solve his predicament.
“Send a messenger to this Tesnayr. Tell him I wish to meet with him.”
The advisor shook his head. “My lord, I think it would be best if you rode to him yourself.”
“I will not be seen as a beggar!”
“My king, this is not an act of weakness, but one of humility. By going to him yourself, seeking him out, you will be acknowledging his understanding of the situation and it will convey that not only do you need his help, but truly desire it as well.”
King Slyamal’s features hardened. He disliked the idea of riding out to meet a man, particularly one whom, in his view, was nothing more than a mere peasant that managed to gather followers. He hated the idea of appearing weak and thought that because he was king people should seek his consul at his command. But time was of the essence and he needed this man’s help.
“My king, it was not I who locked him in the dungeon,” stated the advisor, delicately.
King Slyamal’s brows scrunched together. “Very well. Find out where this man is and I will go to him.”
“Yes, my lord.”